Dark Illusions
by SnowyNeko
Summary: Something is wrong about Megumi Kyou. One look at her, a few words exchanged, and it's obvious she's not hero material, and that's without even considering her quirk. So why has she suddenly appeared in class 1-A? Part of the answer might lie with a certain Shouto Todoroki. The other part? Well, only she knows.
1. Chapter 1

Hey ya'll, SnowyNeko here. With the end of the third season, I got caught up in the MHA hype and ended up creating a character for it. I was really trying to focus on my HxH story Venom, but although I knew what I wanted to do with Sera, the inspiration just wasn't flowing. I still hope to do something with that story, but this girl here was calling my name. So. I am still writing an original story, so I dunno how often updates are gonna happen, but Megumi is rarin' to go. With that out of the way, let's get to the story! I hope you enjoy!

* * *

I unwrap a sucker as I trail after my new teacher. The sweetness does little to replace the hard taste of smokey tobacco, but it at least gives my lips something to occupy them. As I suck on the strawberry candy, I take in my new school's decor. The wide windows thrown about everywhere give me a bit of a hope that this school might not feel quite as claustrophobic as the previous ones I've been in. Still, the famous uniform I wear under my leather jacket doesn't let me forget the enormous expectations this place will force on me. As Mr. Aizawa shoves open the door to the classroom, I sigh through clenched teeth.

At their teacher's arrival, all the chattering students scatter to their seats. All eyes quickly shift to me, though, as I follow the man into the room, stopping in front of the blackboard and turning to face the class. Mr. Aizawa greets the class and states the obvious that a new student is joining while I carefully eye each of my new classmates in order to get an idea of what I've signed up for. They look...well, like hero material. All except for that one blonde that exploded at the sports festival. A certain red and white haired boy sits straighter at the sight of me, but I keep my gaze averted.

"This is Kyou Megumi," our teacher finally introduces. Then, without so much as a glance my way, his hand darts up and snatches the sucker out of my mouth the same way he'd stolen my cigarette when I'd met him in the office. I swear, there's something mocking in his voice when he says, "Be sure to take care of her."

I don't say a word of introduction and instead make my way to the open seat in the back of the room, which was clearly added just for me considering it's the only row with a desk more than the rest. I plop myself down and cross my legs, my tongue twisting irritatedly in my empty mouth. I guess I'll have to wait until we get a break before I can use another candy.

The class itself isn't worth paying attention to. Some lecture about the strategies of top heroes, all of which I've heard and read about before. The real concern begins once the period is over, and the students begin crowding my desk and introducing themselves. Not that it's necessary. The whole country knows the names of the U.A's top class.

Uraraka, after telling me her name, gushes, "It's amazing that you managed to transfer here! It's so rare for students to get in after the entrance ceremony!"

"You're quirk must be pretty cool," the redhead, Kirishima, muses. "Can you show us?"

Yaoyorozu warns, "You guys shouldn't question her too much on her first day. She's probably pretty nervous." She smiles at me apologetically. If I had my usual cigarette, I would've blown smoke her direction.

The questions quiet, though, when the multi-colored hair boy pushes through the others to stand directly in front of my desk. The little boy with purple balls for hair gasps, "Ooooh, has the indifferent Todoroki actually taken an interest in the new girl? An elegantly cold face, small but round bust, a skirt shortened by the lift of her butt, she makes a perfect counterpart to the resident pretty boy! Could a class romance be about to bloom? A couple in the classroom? I wonder what perverted things we'll get to see!" and I get the urge to smack him in the face. I manage to restrain myself, locked in the piercing scrutiny of the boy before me.

Finally, he asks, "What are you doing here, Kyou?"

I nearly falter when he uses my family name. I screw my jaw tight, however, and answer, "I applied and got accepted, _Todoroki_."

"Don't avoid my question."

"I'm pretty sure I answered it."

I tilt my head in challenge, waiting for a retort. Before he can say anything, though, the Midoriya kid interjects, "Do you know her, Todoroki?"

When he doesn't reply, I go ahead and do it for him. "Our mothers were friends."

"We grew up together," he finishes.

"Well that's good," the boy continues, talking to me this time. "You'll have a friend to help you get adjusted. It might be a little hard at first, haha. This class is a little eccentric, but I'm sure you'll get used to it." He rubs his neck nervously as he speaks, clearly intimidated. Why does he even speak if he's scared?

"Clearly you can't read the mood," I bite, causing him to flinch. "Does it look like we're on good terms to you?"

The class falls silent. Of course, it's Shouto that dares to break it.

"Don't go causing trouble."

With those four words he has me bristled and ready to leap to my feet, but he returns to his seat before I can even get a single word out. Before anyone else can come up with something to relieve the tension, the next teacher arrives and they're forced to sit down for their next hour. During the passing periods, some of the girls still come up to talk to me, but I eat alone at lunch, and when the final class period ends, I immediately stand from my seat.

"Want to walk with me to the dorms?"

I glance at the frog girl, then keep walking. "Not goin' there."

She puts a thoughtful finger to her chin and leaves it at that. I'm stopped at the gates by some random teacher who wonders where I'm off to, to which I proceed to snub him with a bland, "I'll be back at nine." Of course, he doesn't let this go without pursuit, and I'm forced to run for it. Despite the guy being a professional hero, I have to laugh at how easy it is to get away. If I can get away this easily without even using a quirk, how is that guy ever going to catch a villain?

I frown. God, I hope not _all_ the heroes at this academy will be that pathetic.

It's a long walk to my destination, an hour just on its own, but it's all worth it the moment the faded staircase to a building's basement comes into sight. I take the steps down two at a time, tossing my cigarette on the ground and stomping on it with my boot before shoving open the door. I light another one the second the door shuts behind me, wrapped in the room's ever-present smell of smoke.

The room itself isn't heated. It doesn't have running water despite there being a sink, and the toilet in the restroom doesn't work, and old wallpaper is peeling off the walls, but the floor is littered with fat beanbags, books, and empty bottles to indicate the place is occupied. At least, sometimes occupied. My part time roommate currently lounges in a large black beanbag in the corner of the room, clicking away at something on his phone. I saunter over and fall into a slightly smaller green beanbag that sits near his.

Attention still on his phone, he observes, "Interesting uniform."

"I wanna burn it." I puff a cloud of smoke at the ceiling. "I hope you know my stance remains the same."

"The others don't even know we're connected," he waves off verbally. He finally flips down his phone and turns up his bright blue eyes to face me, revealing the purple that reaches the stitching at his lips. The first time I saw the purple beneath his eyes, I'd thought they were bags until I saw the stitches. Now that I know him, I have a sneaking suspicion he stitched those there to hide his actual bags, because I've never seen him sleep despite how often he comes here and how long he sometimes stays. "Were you in the same class as Shouto?"

"I was." I cough out a laugh. "He called me fucking _Kyou_. You know how many times he's done that before? Not. Once."

"How many years has it been since you've seen him?"

"So what if it's been awhile? That doesn't change the fact that we're on a personal name basis! But _Kyou_! And then he even went and warned me not to cause trouble! Just remembering it makes me want to smash someone's head in!"

"Heroes don't smash heads."

I grimace. "Shut up."

"You'll hardly make a hero like you are now."

"Who are you kidding? Even if I was the nicest chick in the universe, I would never make a hero."

"If you really believed that, you wouldn't have enrolled at U.A."

I tense, the cigarette bending between my fingers. "That...we don't need to talk about that. What's up with you? Were you a part of that fiasco surrounding the kidnapped student?" He gives me a look and I snarl, "Just because I'm enrolled at that school doesn't mean I'm on their side. You really think I'd go blabbing like some disloyal wuss?"

He balances his phone diagonally between his knee and finger, taking his time before responding, "It'll be my fault if they torture the information out of you."

I roll my eyes. "Whatever you're suggesting, it's insulting."

"True," he relents, pondering. "Truth is, we're just gathering members. The time is right, after All Might's fall. Villains are coming out of hiding. It really would be handy if you would join us."

"Not now," I wave off.

"Do you really think you'll end up somewhere else?"

"Even if I do become a villain, I might not want to join your league. I don't like the sound of that Shigaraki character."

He lets his phone fall. "Now _you're_ insulting _me_."

"Sorry, I only meant to poke at the organization your in. Your choices have nothing to do with it." I smash the finished cigarette butt on the floor and fish in my pocket for the package. Placing another to my lips, I snap the lighter on. Except it doesn't light. I try a few more times, only for the single flame I manage to sputter out before it can take to the tobacco. After a few curses under my breath, I hold out the virgin cigarette and request, "Do you mind?"

"How many have you been smoking, lately?"

"Don't count. Enough to need a new box at least once a week. Why?"

"You're going to make yourself sick."

I blink. Then, laughter explodes from my lips. I examine the little cancer stick while I laugh. "Thanks, Dabi. It's nice to know _someone_ is worried about me." My laughter fades as I stare at it, my smile small as I turn it over between my fingers.

Knowing the look, Dabi comments, "You just wish it was Shouto who said it."

"A couple days ago, I would've thought it was something he would say, too." I once again hold out the stick to him, and he flicks a little tongue of blue flame onto the tip. Returning it to my lips, I sigh, "Now I know that awful father of his got to him."

We sit in silence for awhile, Dabi getting back to his phone. Me, I just watch the smoke twisting up and pooling against the ceiling. When my cigarette is just about burned out, I remember, "Oh yeah, I wanted your opinion about my hero costume. They told me they wanted a blueprint before class tomorrow, so they could get one made so I could join the class training sessions coming up." I grimace at the thought. What even is there for me to train?

"I don't care. Do what you want."

"The problem is I haven't really thought about it. I haven't even considered heroism as a profession since I was little, and all the ideas I had back then were ridiculous. I wouldn't be caught dead in any of those designs. Do you really not have any idea? Aren't you picky about hero stuff?

"If anything," he shrugs, "a hero shouldn't care about their costume, as long as its effective."

I fidget. "Well of course, but…"

"Shouto?"

"Yeah."

"You still care so much, even when he treated you coldly?"

"Don't get me wrong." The cigarette crushes between my teeth. "I'm not forgiving him for that one easily." I stand, throwing the burned out, crooked stick to the ground and grinding it with the tip of my shoe. "But yeah. I don't know how often I'll make it here in the near future. I had to run away from a teacher today just to leave the campus. Your little stunt with your league made them security nazis."

"Leaving already?"

"I'm already in trouble. I'd rather not make it more annoying by staying out past sundown. They'll suspect me of villainy."

"If they don't already."

"Shut up, I meant it as a joke and you know it." Stuffing my hands in my jacket, I nod, "Catch you later," and turn on my heel.

I reach the Academy just before the sun touches the horizon, and sure enough, I'm dragged away for a lecture. After tuning out the teacher's 'I'll let it slide since you're new', and 'We _will_ take harsh disciplinary action in the future' talk, I'm ever so kindly escorted to the class A dorm, which nobly displays the word Alliance across its front. I suck roughly at the mint in my mouth, then push open the doors.

"Oh, you're back!"

The round, cheery face of Uraraka greets me as I step inside, as if she had nothing better to do than to await my arrival. I freeze, nearly stepping back. Behind her, a few of the other students watch from their seats on a couch. The only face I really wanted to see is nowhere in sight. I stuff the mint into my cheek and ask the airhead, "Is there something you wanted?"

Her smile holding strong against its wavering, she explains, "I'm here to give you a tour and show you to your room! And if you have any questions, feel free to ask me. I'll answer the best I can."

The look in her eyes is as if I might literally bite her for simply talking to me. I sigh and tell her to just take me to my room. When we arrive, I immediately step inside and slam the door behind me, taking in the room. The walls are bare, the carpet pale, and the bed sheets are covered with deep blue and purple swirls, like a nebula star. A single desk, a large antique wardrobe, blackout drapes tied up by the window...it's all exactly like my room back at home. I'm nearly convinced they used someone's quirk to straight up transport it here, except that under my bed, my stash of books proves to be missing. That's almost unfortunate.

There are, however, scratch paper and notebooks in the drawers of the mahogany desk. I flip out a sheet and grab a pen out of the pencil holder. They even got the type of pens I use right.

My costume...what do I do about that? I was half convinced when I applied that I wasn't even going to get in, let alone succeed in getting into class 1-A, and when I got the acceptance letter, clothing was the last thing on my mind. I lay my cheek on the desk, fiddling the pen between my fingers. What's even the point? Most costumes are there to enhance the person's quirk, but what good would a costume do me? Maybe something purely for defense? Or something covered in weapons? But then I'd have to learn how to use all of them, and my hands would also be occupied.

My hands have to be free.

I set the pen flat, turning my hand to stare at the small dot on its back. I twist it, then, to examine the thin red markings decorating my palm. My fingers bend to rub them absently as I trace the vaguely elliptical pattern with my eyes. Then my hand clenches into a fist and I bump my forehead down on the desk.

This whole thing was a stupid idea. Still, what's done is done. I may be an idiot, but I need this. I need this to fail so I can get this naive hope out of my head. The sooner the better. Nothing good will come of me trying to force something that, if I'm being real, is never meant to be.

* * *

What'd you guys think? Honestly, I don't know whether to refer to her as Megumi or Kyou in these afore and after notes. Megumi is her personal name, so I feel like I should call her by it, but she'll probably be primarily referred to as Kyou in universe, so it might get a little confusing... Anyway, I'm excited to see where this story goes. I may be the author, but sometimes my characters surprise me. It's one of the things I enjoy so much about writing! And something tells me Megumi has some tricks up her sleeve.


	2. Chapter 2

So far, Megumi has proven to be a fascinating character to write. It may seem early to say that, but it's a promising sign in my eyes. I can usually tell pretty quickly whether or not I enjoy a character, and that tends to dictate how much time and effort I spend on a story. I seem to have a penchant for writing aggressive OCs. Anyway, here's chapter numero dos. Enjoy!

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A muted knock wakes me in the morning, and I open my eyes irritably in the pitch blackness. When I don't respond, a girl's voice calls from beyond the door, "If you don't come down soon, you won't have time to eat breakfast." Judging from the polite tone, it's probably Yaoyorozu. After a few seconds, I hear her footsteps retreating down the hall.

I reach out to the bedside table and grope around for the lamp. Eventually, my fingers find the cord. I yank it, and light spills out into my lair of darkness. Tossing off the covers, I throw my oversized T-shirt onto the floor and make my way to my wardrobe. Unlike my wardrobe at home, this one is organized neatly, with a few neatly pressed uniforms hanging on one side and my personal clothes arranged into summer and winter clothing on the other. Having discovered this last night, I barely even note it as I snatch out one of the uniforms and toss it on the bed. I jerk open one of the drawers, take out a pair of shorts and socks, and finally get to dressing. When I'm fully clothed, I take a few more seconds to sling up my hair before glancing at the bathroom, deciding to skip brushing my teeth, and leaving.

The blinding light of the hallway has me scowling all the way to the dining area. The bright chatter so early in the morning doesn't do anything to help my mood, either. Most of the students are either cleaning up or done with their meal, the one exception I find being Yaoyorozu, who sits straight as a board in front of two untouched plates of eggs. When she sees me, she waves.

 _Oh, one of those must be for me._

"We have to eat quick," she states as I seat myself across from her. Pushing one of the plates towards me, she explains, "We only have fifteen minutes before we need to be at the school."

I pick up a fork and start eating, as does she. Occupied with the task at hand, she doesn't notice me watching her as I chew. She waited for me, didn't she? Great. That means she's one of those overly considerate types. I suppose, at least, that means she'll probably make a good a hero. And with a quirk like she has, she might just end up being one of the best.

I've always been a fast eater, so I'm finished in only a few minutes. Across from me, however, Yaoyorozu seems to be struggling. From the looks of it, she's trying to eat fast, but her attention to etiquette restrains her motions. Multiple times she very nearly puts down her fork between bites, only to freeze and keep it in her hand. Watching her, I don't know whether to scoff or honestly laugh.

She finishes a few minutes after me, though, and hurriedly cleans up. We're the last to leave the dorms. Although her pace is brisk, eager to break ahead, she continually hangs back to stay with me. If I were nicer, I'd tell her to go on without me, but since I'm not, I just pop a candy in my mouth and let her doom herself to being tardy. It's not _my_ fault she's set on going to school with me.

When we reach the classroom, the bell has just rung. Mr. Aizawa scolds the girl with me first, to which she adamantly apologizes and dashes to her seat. To me, he gives the same chastation, and then holds out his hand. "Your costume blueprint."

Crunching the jolly rancher in my mouth, I meet his eyes. "Don't have one."

A vein bulges on his forehead at my response. The rest of the room falls silent.

Once he's simmered until he's decidedly well cooked, he seethes, "Development Studio. Now."

"Where's that?"

"I'll show you," the frog girl volunteers, rising from her seat. You wouldn't think it, from the calm look on her face, but her quickness betrays her fear of the teacher. Before I move to follow her, I cast a glance towards Shouto. He isn't even looking my direction.

I duck my head and trail frog girl out of the room. What was her name again? Asui?

"You shouldn't make the teacher mad like that," she suddenly says out of nowhere.

I shift my gaze off of her and shrug, despite the fact she hasn't turned to look at me. "I don't have a blueprint. What else was there to do?"

"Still, Mr. Aizawa is strict. If you keep being disrespectful, he might even go as far as to expel you. It also puts him in bad mood for the rest of the day," she sighs. Finally, she peeks over her shoulder at me. "So please, for the class's sake and yours, try to be a little more compliant."

My jaw twists tight. My immediate response would normally be that it isn't any of her business, but her reference to it being troublesome to the rest of the class _makes_ it her business. Again, if only it wasn't her saying it, but so far Shouto's acted like he wants nothing to do with me.

Asui's eyelids droop and she apologizes, "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you mad."

After that, she doesn't talk again. Eventually, she stops at a door and opens it, and we step into a room of metal. Everything looks sterile, from the messy but polished tables to the tools hanging on the wall. Sitting at one of those tables is a short man wearing only pants, boots, gloves, and a giant construction shovel on his head. How he sees out of that thing, I can't imagine. He sets down his tools, turning to us upon our entry.

"What can I help you with? Oh, you must be the new student." He raises to his feet and extends a hand which, after a second of leaving it hanging in the air, I reach out and take. He gives a single solid shake before letting go. "Did you bring the blueprints for your suit?"

"Actually," Asui beats me to the punch, "she was sent herself because she doesn't have one yet."

"I see. You can go back to class, Asui. I'll keep Kyou here until we finish drawing up a design."

With my guide gone, I'm not sure I'll know exactly how to join the class when I'm done, but whatever. I eye Asui as she leaves, then turn back to the hero. I can't remember exactly what his name is, but I'm pretty sure he helps with rescues. "So are you gonna give me some crayons or something?

The hero points at me with a wrench. "I might as well draw it since I'm here. Just tell me what you need and want from your costume, and we can work on appearance together."

"I don't care what it looks like," I shrug. Then I quickly tack on, "As long as I don't look like a three year old. The only thing I need…" I splay my palms for him to see. "These need to be bare, and the back," I say, flipping them so he can see the dot on each hand. "And then there's this."

Delicately, I use only the tips of my fingers to brush aside my hair, careful not to touch the skin of my forehead.

He takes this in silently for a minute and I let my bangs drop back into place. Then, he wonders, "I apologize if I'm asking something personal, but what do all those markings have to do with your quirk?"

"...Is it necessary for the design?"

"It might be."

I sigh, once again turning my hands so he can see the dots on the back. "One of these needs to touch the dot on my forehead, otherwise my quirk stays dormant."

He doesn't respond immediately, but a few moments later, he nods, picking up a pencil and beginning to sketch. As he draws, he questions me about my measurements, and asks, "Your quirk is psychological, correct?"

I nod.

"That means you'll probably undergo a lot of physical training to make up for your normal physique, so you'll have to have mobility and flexibility...as for color…" He pauses to assess me. "Dark purple is a hard hair color to compliment. Pink would work, but considering anything even slightly vibrant would make your eyes look washed out, we can't do that either."

I scoff. It doesn't matter _what_ I wear, my eyes always look disturbingly pale pink.

"I would do black, except…"

"I would look like a villain?" I smirk. "I say do it. I look like a villain, anyway."

He taps his pencil in thought, then mumbles, "I guess it could work, so long as we keep the cuts rounded and simple." He scribbles something down and asks, "Are there any sort of devices you think would help? I usually have my hands full maintenancing the outfits that require complicated mechanisms, but one of the students this year is an avid inventor, so even if it isn't necessary, we could probably handle any extra desired elements."

I shake my head, and he shrugs. Then, setting aside the paper he'd been writing on, he tells me, "You're dismissed. I'll deliver your costume to the dorms when the company completes it."

I take my leave without complaint. As the door shuts behind me, I unwrap a piece of gum and pop it in my mouth. It may be against the rules, but it's not like Mr. Aizawa's gonna see it. Even if I wanted to go back to class, without Asui to guide me, I'm as good as a mouse in a maze. What do I do, then? Where should I go? I can't leave the school grounds, or else whoever's watching the gate will take me back to my class.

The dorm it is, then.

I start by retracing my steps back to the 1-A classroom, my intent being to retrace my steps from there back to the dorms. However, on my way back, I run into a vaguely familiar blonde fellow. I wouldn't have noticed him at all, except that, upon seeing me, the most disgusting jeer comes across his face. It's enough to have me plant myself where I stand, narrowing my eyes.

"Oh would you look at that? It's the new delinquent of class A! Isn't that strange? You would think a school for heroes wouldn't have delinquents, and yet there's one is the supposed best class! How peculiar!"

I return the sneer without any of the amusement. "What's your point, blondie?"

"I just think it's funny that the supposed best class in the school accepted a villain in the making! How low they've stooped! How pathetic! How—"

My foot comes down loud enough for the noise to fill the entire hallway. The blondie jumps halfway out of his skin before freezing, that infernal, taunting smile stuck on like glue.

"I don't know who the hell you think you are," I seethe, "but if you don't shut your trap, I'll skin that ugly face of yours and stuff it down your throat."

His lip twitches. Then it settles into a less crazed, much chillier smirk that has my glare sharpening. "Well, that isn't a very hero-like thing to do, now is it?"

"Try me. Let's see what other things I'll do that aren't very 'hero-like'."

"Are you really that stupid? Only an idiot would try something villainous in the hallways of UA. Clearly, you fall into the less intellectually inclined side of class A."

What the hell? What's this guy's problem? I've never even met the dude before and yet the first time he sees me, he starts hurling insults my way like there's no tomorrow! My hands flex in their pockets. He's seriously asking for it. If anyone's an idiot here, it's him. If only he knew the hell I could give him…

"Kyou."

Every muscle in my body locks, my eyes no longer seeing the blondie in front of me. It's the blondie's voice that talks next, but I barely catch what he's saying.

"So the class's prized student came to pick up their troublemaker. I guess you have to keep her on a tight leash to make sure she doesn't go rogue."

I straighten stiffly and shift my gaze to the dual color haired boy who's appeared behind the nuisance. An involuntary shiver runs over my skin under his glare.

He's angry.

Straining to find my voice, I manage to spit, "What do you want?"

"I was told to come bring you back to class." His voice is just as frigid as his stare. "Come on."

My jaw clenched, I shoot the infuriating blondie one last glance, then step around him to follow Shouto.

"Really, just like a sad little puppy."

My hand flies out of its pocket as I whirl on the boy.

Burning fingers close around my wrist before I can bring it to my face.

My breath audibly hitches at the sensation and I unintentionally trip a step back. I drink in the sight of my quivering hand, entrapped in a familiar, abnormally hot grip. I can't bring myself to meet Shouto's eyes.

A second later, his fingers are gone, and I've already fled. The world is as equally a blur as my mind as I run, and run, and run, my untouched hand suffocating the still warm hand against my chest. I run despite the people calling after me, the eyes that gape at me, the lungs that sear me.

The next thing I know, I've slammed myself into the hideaway on the other side of town and collapsed to the floor heaving. I don't try to get up.

He was angry. Of course he was angry. I was being aggressive. I was acting like a villain. He has every reason to disapprove. Of course he'd stop me from using my quirk. Anyone would! Of course he'd grab my hand and stop me!

But he didn't just grab my hand. He used his left hand. He _used_ it. He threatened me with the same disgusting heat as that man who called himself his father!

Wetness begins to gather in my eyes, but I refuse it. I force it back, digging nails into my skin and letting loose a scream so raw it echoes for multiple seconds after I've cut it off. Then I scream again, and again, and again, guttural and enraged, until I've spent all my energy and am left with gritted teeth and exhausted limbs. Then, and only then, does a single tear manage to escape and slip down into my hair. I press the heels of my palms into my eyes with a shuddering breath.

Thank god Dabi isn't here.

* * *

So I knew from the get-go that Megumi was going to be somewhat unstable, but she really blew through my expectations. It's only chapter two and she's already having a screaming fit on the floor. It makes me a little worried to think of where she'll go from here. And a little excited. What're your guys' thoughts on her? I might like her, but I'm writing this for you guys to enjoy, so what really matters is your opinion. So, thoughts? Expectations? Questions? I'd love to hear them. Anywho, I'll see you guys next chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

Well. I came home today and wrote this all in one shot. I was joking with myself yesterday that I might do that, but I'm actually kind of surprised I actually did it. Like. Wow. It's been awhile since I've written so much in one sitting. And I don't think it's a bad chapter, if I do say so myself. Then again, if a chapter was bad, I'd revise it, so hopefully I wouldn't be putting up any chapter I thought was bad.

Enjoy!

* * *

Upon my return to the school, I'm immediately lead to the counseling department. _This_ teacher says nothing about the smoke stick in my mouth and just takes me where I need to be. That alone is enough for me to relax a bit. The last thing I need after such an episode is Mr. Aizawa taking away my shots of nicotine, and that was my top concern when I finally walked back through the school gates.

With the moonbeams streaming in through the wall-spanning windows, the hallways have long been abandoned. Only a select few classrooms still have their lights on, presumably containing teachers working overtime for one reason or another. And, of course, the window of the door to the counseling department releases light from inside. Whichever poor soul is in there, _their_ overtime work is courtesy of me.

The teacher leading me pulls open the door, and I pause, fingers trapping my cigarette with the intent of momentarily freeing it from my lips. I stand a moment, ignoring the urgings of the teacher to go inside, and absorb the identity of the person awaiting me. Then I finish my motion, releasing the cigarette from my lips briefly and sighing out smoke before replacing it. Then I head inside.

I seat myself across from the emaciated hero, who leans forward with an elbow on his knees, one arm in a cast, and his minuscule blue pupils set determinedly on me. I throw one leg over the other and cross my right arm over my chest, taking my cigarette in my other hand.

"What an honor," I muse dryly.

"I believe this is the first time we've met," the man begins, his tone formal. "It's a pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Ms. Kyou."

I snear. "Please, the pleasure's mine, Mr. All Might. But let's get to what I'm here for, shall we? I happen to like my sleep."

He sighs, dropping his head. When he raises it again, he reviews, "It's only your second day here, and this is the second time you've left school grounds without permission. We brought the students on campus to ensure their safety. We can't do that if they're constantly coming and going. Do you understand?"

"Sure. It's not like it's complicated." I inhale my cigarette deeply, averting my gaze. I don't need this tonight. Not from anyone, but especially not the hero of heroes. The nicotine doesn't entirely alleviate the tightness in my chest, though.

"Then I ask that you please follow the rules. You may have gotten in on a recommendation, but so did other students. You aren't given special privileges because of it."

I raise a brow. "They had me talk with the all-powerful All Might just so he could ask me to behave?"

"I asked if I could be the one to talk to you."

"Oh did you now?" I lean forward and extinguish my cigarette on one of the coffee table coasters, causing All Might to flinch. Immediately acidity swells in my heart, and I have to forcefully retain it. Is he really so weak, now, that I intimidate him? I always kind of thought that if there was one person other than Shouto who would never fear me, it would be the Pillar of Justice. Disappointment strangles my throat as I sit back.

"I felt obligated, as I have been helped by your father in the past."

I scoff. "I assume that's how I got here, then, despite late students being a folktale at UA. Thank you so much, oh mighty hero. I am forever in your debt." Oh, wait, does he even count as a hero anymore? I watch him out of the corner of my eye as I pop a mint in my mouth, searching for any sign of distress.

"I will admit I vouched for your admission," All Might confesses. He apparently isn't fazed by what I said. "However, the decision was made primarily out of trust of your father, as well as the undeniable strength of your ability. Everyone thought it would be prudent for us, specifically, to foster you."

I fully realize he doesn't mean for there to be anything hidden beneath his words, but I read between the lines, anyway. They all thought it was their responsibility to keep me on the path of 'justice'. They know I could make a formidable villain yet. Even if their instruction were to fail, they will have kept a close eye on me, and will be able to easily apprehend me if I do something stupid. Unfortunately, I'm not stupid.

"So what's your point, Mr. Hero?"

"I may not have had the opportunity to teach you yet, because of unfortunate circumstances—" I glance at his cast. "—but I am still your teacher, and as your teacher, I want you to be happy. I came to talk to you today to ask why it is you're constantly so hostile."

I blink. Is he serious? Does he think I'm just gonna spill my guts because he asks me to? Weak, and an idiot, too… I can't help but grimace as the image of the awesome All Might shatters before me. The acidity that boiled up earlier begins to burn again, this time searing in its heat, and every muscle in my face tenses with my effort to suppress it.

All Might clears his throat. "Forgive me if I'm wrong, or I'm overstepping my boundaries, but are you by chance acting out because of your mother?"

My _mother_? "What does this have to do with _her_?"

He rubs his neck timidly and my teeth nearly splinter against each other. "It's normal for some children who don't have both parents to lash out, but it's not a healthy behavior. I know nothing can replace your mother, but you should be thankful for who's still in your life. Your father still cares about you a great deal, and us teachers do, too, and you also have a wonderful class full of caring students to help you."

I can't get anything out of my mouth as I sit there, dumbfounded. Just how...how stupid can this guy be? If that had _anything_ to do with what's wrong with my life, his words just now would have had me at his throat, not thanking him for his concern! How can he think that's okay to say to someone he thinks hates the world because they lost a parent?

My mint falls onto my tongue, having been suctioned to the roof of my mouth, and I finally pull myself back together. Hardly able to keep from laughing in shock, my words come out sounding amused when I say, "Mr. All Might, Sir, if you have nothing else you want to talk about, I'd like to go back to my dorm room now."

"Of course, I don't wish to keep you from sleep, but just know that if you ever need to talk, I'm here. And before you go I need to tell you you're being punished for your misdemeanor. You're to be put on house arrest until the day of the provisional license exam."

"Oh really? They're taking away my chance to prepare for the exam?" The dazed amusement still lingers in my voice.

"They believe you have a chance of passing even without preparation."

Well that's fair enough, I guess. I haven't really had the experience of the other students taking the exam...but meh. I can hardly bring myself to dwell on it in the aftermath of All Might's little moment.

"I'm gonna head to bed, then."

"Do you know your way back to the dorms yet?"

"I'll find it. I promise I'll head straight there without fooling around." With that, I stand on almost unstable feet and walk out, as simple as that. I try to shake off my bewilderment as I first find my way to the 1-A classroom. By the time I've reached it, and have turned to puzzle my way back to the dorms, most of the shock has worn off. In its place, however, the venom in my heart has begun to erode bitterly. _That_ was the Pillar of Justice? I had seen the moment he turned frail on screen, but he had still been the courageous, steadfast, loyal hero he'd always been. But that man I just met…cowardly and clueless...

He didn't smile at me even once.

I click my tongue and snap on my lighter, spitting out the shrunken mint to replace it with a lit cigarette as I step out of the main school building. My feet move quickly in my agitation, and the stick has barely burned halfway through by the time I've reached the 1-A dorms. I loiter outside the doors for a minute. Then, with a low growl, I toss my unfinished cigarette on the ground and stomp it before entering.

The lights are off. Of course they are. No one in their right mind would be up at this hour after intensive training, and they've got the same training again tomorrow. Even if someone's still awake, they'll be in their rooms winding down. It's only sensible.

...Except there's still a lamp on in the living area.

And a certain boy with red and white hair sits on the couch, head hung over in a way that suggests he either must have fallen asleep sitting up, or he's reading.

My heart freezes. _What is he doing out here?_

After a moment, I slowly start towards him, my footsteps silent.

"You smell like smoke."

I lock in place. A small thump sounds as he closes his book and turns to me, resting an arm atop the back of the couch. Instinctively, I lean back to step away, but I hold myself in place. He couldn't have been waiting for me, could he? Why did he wait until so late? What made him think I would even come back? Why would he even _want_ to wait for me? He used his left side on me! Unless...he just waited so he could scold me more?

"Where'd you run off to?"

Bingo.

"Why do you care?" I hiss, digging deep to regain my fury towards him.

"You're going to get in trouble for it."

"I already have." I pull myself straighter, flipping my bangs out of my eyes. "I'm under _house arrest_ until the license exam. What's your point?"

He looks away. "My point is it's ridiculous. You've always been assertive, but you're taking it too far."

"What does it matter? It doesn't affect you, does it? You're just your daddy's little soldier, marching along to the tune of his drum." He stiffens the second I mention his father, his his eyes burning icily as he turns his glare on me. I curl my lips back in a snarl. "Am I wrong?"

" _Very_."

"You've gotten pretty used to using your left side. You're aiming to be a hero, too. The way I see it, you're doing exactly what he want you to." My voice sinks dark with my last few words. "Am. I. Wrong?"

"This quirk," tongues of flames lick off his fingers, "is _mine_. It has nothing to do with that failure of a dad."

"Likely story."

" _Kyou. You're pushing it._ "

Kyou, Kyou, Kyou. I've never hated my family name so much in my entire life! "You gonna fry me? I'd like to see you try."

We remain like that, tense, each of us ready to attack the other at our weak points. Then his hand closes and his flames evaporate.

"You don't even need your quirk. You're a nightmare enough without it."

My neck muscles pulsate as I quake with rage. I don't hesitate. I whirl and dash to my room, slamming the bedroom door behind me and slamming my fist into the wall hard enough that, when I lower it away, my hand shakes with pain, not anger. Breathing heavy, I stand, staring at the knuckles that are sure to bruise overnight.

How could he? _How could he?_

Why am I even here? Why am I even bothering to try to become a hero? For Shouto? He sure as hell doesn't want me here! Maybe I _should_ just run off and join the league of villains! I'd like to see his face _then_!

But...that would mean turning my quirk against him.

The thought smashes through my anger like glass, and my fist falls limply to my side. I can't do that. My quirk is bad enough as is. If I used it to torment Shouto…

My lip quivers, but I suck it up and throw myself in bed. It would be better if I just sleep. At the very least, I know he has the tact not to let me see him tomorrow.

* * *

Touchy, isn't she? You know, I still haven't heard anything from you guys comment-wise, but the likes and favorites tell me you guys are enjoying it. I'm glad. Of course, I'd like to hear specifics, but it doesn't really matter so long as it's entertaining. So. Does anyone have any guesses as to what her quirk does? I'm kinda curious to hear what you guys think it might be. Oh, and sorry for keeping you hanging as to what it is. I'd love to share, but Megumi isn't one to go around using it willy-nilly, so you're gonna have to wait a bit longer to see her use it. Look forward to it, and I'll see you guys again next chapter!


	4. Chapter 4

Is it just me, or is it strange that this is already chapter four. It still feels like the very beginning, but my stories usually average about 15-17 chapters long. I guess this one might take a little longer, since we're still in the opening act. I don't know. I just saw that this was chapter four and went "wow, already?" even though four really isn't that far into it. I'm probably just being weird.

In light of that, here's the fourth update. Enjoy!

* * *

My first thought when I wake is that whoever is knocking at my door is dead. Not only did I get back late, but because of that damn argument with Shouto, I couldn't fall asleep!

I jerk off the covers and stomp to the door, yanking it open and startling the girl behind it. It's Yaoyorozu again. She blinks, then flushes beet red. "Y-You should put on some clothes before you open the door!"

"It's not like there's boys in this wing," I growl. "And I've got a shirt."

"But you need to wear pants!"

"I'll put 'em on before I leave. What did you want?"

"Breakfast—"

"I'm under house arrest. I'll eat it later. Is that it?"

"I suppose…"

"Goodnight then." I slam the door and collapse back onto my bed, guessing its position by memory since the light is out. Of course, however, I can't get back to even the fitful sleep I had before I was interrupted. After a few minutes of tossing and turning, I regrettably turn on the light and go to my wardrobe. I leave my hair down today, so it lies covering my shoulder blades, and throw on a halter top with a pair of ripped jeans. This time I actually brush my teeth and wash my face before I leave.

The dorm is empty by the time I reach the dining area. I crack an egg into a pan and let it simmer, my hand automatically going to my pocket for a package of smokes. With a click of the tongue, I realize I forgot to grab one before leaving my room, and I don't have any candy on me, either. I debate going to fetch them, but the already cooking egg keeps me in the kitchen. Instead, I rummage through the pantry and locate a bag of small chocolates.

Those'll work.

They dissolve quickly in my mouth, but serve to keep my mouth busy until my breakfast is ready. Then I sit to eat. As I pick at the egg, I lean back, eyes out the window. So what should I do while I'm stuck here? Usually I go out on days I skip school. Actually, I _always_ go out. Staying home would mean a lecture from Dad (if he was home) and nothing to do.

...so what do I do?

One part of me tells me I should go grab a cigarette and think about it while I smoke, but as enticing as that sounds, I push the urge away roughly. I can't smoke inside the dorm. Shouto has a bad enough image of me already. But wait, does that mean I have to stop smoking while I'm under house arrest? I freeze mid chew, then shake my head and continue. No, I'll just step outside. They won't shoot me for getting a breath of fresh air. I shouldn't worry about it. Besides, it's less than a week before the exam. I can afford to cut back on smoking a little until then. Dabi would probably be happy about it, too.

I try to entertain myself, I really do. I wander through the halls, opening the unlocked rooms and trying to guess which bedroom is whose. Most of them are locked, however, and the only one I'm really interested in must be one of the locked ones, so I'm soon bored again.

I really don't have any choice, do I? I'm just gonna have to sneak out.

"Ah, Kyou!"

I finish pushing open the front door and stare at the green haired, freckled boy before me.

"Mr. Aizawa sent me to check on you!"

Translation: He sent someone to ensure I didn't sneak out.

I bite the inside of my cheek and contemplate ditching this guy and letting him deal with the consequences. Considering his quirk, though, I'd probably have a rough time getting away from him if he decided to use it. Unless I countered with my own. But I'm not too keen on that idea when the smiley boy before me truly doesn't seem to have any ill intent.

"You're Midoriya, yeah?" I confirm, unwrapping a sucker I'd taken from my room during my wandering spell. The little box in my pocket pokes at my thigh, pleading to be taken out instead, but I suck hard at the candy and try to ignore it for now.

"Yeah, I'm sorry we haven't really gotten the chance to talk before now," he apologizes as he climbs the stairs to meet me. "And now that you're under house arrest, we aren't going to get to see you throughout the day. It honestly makes me pretty glad I was sent to keep you company."

So...he's the sociable type? Overly kind? He isn't quite like Yaoyorozu, not as formal, but I'm catching similar vibes. I suppose he might be bearable, if he doesn't turn out to be energetic and persistent. Either way, he's not quite what I was expecting from the guy who was able to go head to head with Shouto at the sports festival.

"Um, so," he fidgets when I don't say anything else, "what were you doing outside?"

"I don't like being caged." I step aside so he can enter. "Thought I'd open the door and air out the place. And you guys'd get mad if I smoked in here, right?"

"Yeah, please refrain from that if you can," he requests as if not smoking is an easy thing to do. I let it slide and follow him back inside, jamming in a nearby doorstop to support my earlier story. "So what have you been doing all morning?"

"Nothing much." I plop myself down on one of the couches. "So how do you plan on entertaining me?"

"Huh?" He blinks, surprised.

"You said you were sent to keep me company. So, how so you plan on entertaining me?"

"Oh, I just thought we'd talk a bit."

Hm, not bad. He doesn't seem to be a bumbling idiot, at least. I motion for him to go ahead and sit. As he does, he lets out a tiny sigh of relief, prompting me to ask, "What?"

He winces, caught. "It's just that I was a little worried you'd refuse."

"Believe it or not, I can actually function as a human being," I grimace. "I'm not just gonna reject someone requesting a conversation. Now, depending on what you want to talk about, I might reject _that_." I can't really blame him for his concern. Most people won't even ask me basic questions because they're afraid I'll explode, so I actually have to applaud his bravery for approaching me despite everything.

To my surprise, though, my glowering response earns a beaming smile out of him. "Thanks for being willing to talk. I don't really mind what we talk about. You can go ahead and pick."

I flinch. I appreciate the gesture, but what am I supposed to say? How's the weather? I toss it back to him. "I don't really have anything I care to discuss, so go ahead and ask whatever it is you want."

"Then how about we talk about our previous schools? Where did you go before you transferred here?"

I slide the sucker to the other side of my mouth. "I dunno."

His eyebrows furrow in confusion. "You don't know?"

"I only really went there once or twice," I shrug. "I hated it, so I didn't go back."

"Your parents let you do that?"

"My dad's always busy with work. He didn't have the time to reprimand me."

"What did you do with all that spare time?

"I walked around town, read, studied, hung out with a friend, whatever kept me entertained." When I see the surprise on his face, I snicker. "You expected me to say something like I hung out with a gang or something, right?"

"Well, kinda…"

How honest. "Well I did interact with those sorts of people from time to time. I practiced Taekwondo, too, when I could. It was mostly self-taught, though."

"You taught yourself martial arts? That's amazing!

This time, it's my turn to pause in surprise. Then I smile, twisting my sucker around in my mouth. "Well, I was instructed on the basics when I was young. I just continued my learning on my own when I couldn't go to the dojo anymore. What about you? Who taught you to fight?"

"It was mostly just instruction here."

"You're aiming to be a hero, but waited to start training until high school?" I scoff, disbelieving. Somehow I doubt that level of experience would allow him to fight on equal footing with Shouto.

"Well my quirk didn't appear until right before, really. I'd always wanted to be a hero, but I didn't have a quirk, so I never really thought… I always told myself I could do it, but I think part of me doubted it, so I never really started training myself."

At this point, I've stopped paying attention to the candy in my mouth. Wow...quirkless for so long? Even with a quirk, heroism has always been far out of my reach, but that…

"How lucky," I finally say. "It might've been late, but you developed a seriously useful quirk."

"Haha, you know about it? I guess you would. That means you watched the sports festival, right?"

"Me and the entire country," I nod.

"With this quirk, I can finally make my lifelong dream a reality. I'm going to chase it and catch it. That's one of the things I really love about this school. Everyone here wants to be a hero for one reason or another, and we're all ready to fight to make it happen. You want to be a hero too, don't you?"

I don't respond. Instead, since we're inside the dorms, I add a second sucker to my nearly disintegrated first one. It hardly helps kill the urge to grab out a cigarette, but I need _something_ to distract me, and the clashing tastes of watermelon and rootbeer do help a little.

Midoriya apparently takes my silence as a prompt to change the subject, because the next thing he asks is, "So, you and Todoroki used to be friends."

I unintentionally crunch the last of the smaller sucker, taking a moment before I confirm, "Yeah. We've been through this already, on my first day."

"I was just wondering," he ventures, "what exactly happened between you guys. You said you weren't getting along anymore."

I glance out a window. "You don't need to be worried about it."

"I know it isn't really my place to butt in." His hands clasp in in his lap, and a vague discoloration catches my eye. One of his hands is covered in scars. "It's just, Todoroki is my friend, and I know he's gone through some hard places, so I hope that you and him can patch things up. I think it would be good for him to reconnect with an old friend."

I sigh, deciding not to mention he sounds like a worried parent. "Listen, Midoriya. Nothing happened. There was never any fight between us. We've just been separated for awhile, and people change. Neither of us is the little kid we used to be when we played together."

"But then why—"

"Excuse me, I'm gonna go light a smoke."

I leave before he can continue whatever it is he's asking, taking out the little package in my pocket once I've stepped out the door. I toss the unfinished sucker in the bushes. Placing a cigarette between my lips, I try to snap on the lighter. It takes too many tries until I've finally got a flame, but even when I do, the fire shakes enough to make lighting the stick a challenge. I curse, forcing my hand to stop shaking just long enough to get it lit. I suck in a deep breath of smoke and squeeze my eyes shut.

This is ridiculous. I know it is. I only said the truth, and it's a truth I knew even before I came to UA. But knowing it doesn't make it any better. I knew this was a possibility, but somehow, I still expected Shouto to treat me the same. I still thought he'd smile and tease me and laugh with me, still thought he'd seek me out to talk with… I shouldn't have expected it. We were kids back then, and the world and its opinions were nothing to us. It only makes sense that he would learn to act like this.

That he would learn that I'm to be avoided.

Especially with that bastard Endeavor breathing down his neck.

I breathe in another hit of nicotine and hope it's only my hands that are shaking so the guy sitting in the dorms behind be can't see just how much my own words have rattled me.

* * *

It's kind of nice to see Megumi in a civil conversation where she's not explicitly hostile. We've seen it before with Dabi, but I feel like there's some notable differences between those two conversations. Like, she's friends with Dabi, but Izuku is mostly a stranger at this point. On another note, some of you finally left some comments! Thank you so much! Reading them was absolutely delightful! It's always so interesting to hear what you guys have to say, and I'm glad you all like the ShoutoxMegumi I've set up. Sometimes OCs don't fit with their partner at all, so that's always a worry while writing. I hope I can continue to write true to their characters.


	5. Chapter 5

Here we go, things are starting to happen now. The next few chapters are going to be seriously fun for me to write. I'm quite happy with how this one turned out, too. Honestly, I don't really have anything else to say, so I'll just let you guys get to reading.

* * *

My music pauses and I glance down at my phone. A little notification at the top of the screen wishes me luck, and I click on it with a snicker.

 _Just watch me,_ I type. _Im gonna get my license and decimate the league of villains._

It's less than five seconds before Dabi replies, _I look forward to it_. I can practically hear the bland sarcasm in his voice, and the thought makes me chuckle again.

"Who's Purple Lighter?"

I jump, my finger clicking off my phone as I turn to look out the bus window. I try not to think about the heat in my face as I snap, "Why're you looking at my screen?"

"S-Sorry! I just got kinda bored, and you seemed entertained by something, so I was curious!"

"Well mind your own business."

"Sorry!"

I had forgotten there was a person sitting next to me. I really don't like this Hagakure chick. It really isn't any fault of her own, but the fact that she's invisible is something I find incredibly unnerving. She could be watching me at any moment, and I would have no idea. She's not even undressed, and it _still_ slipped my mind she was here.

"What'chya talkin' about?" The pink chick pokes her head over the back of her seat, her golden eyes flitting between us. "You're not being mean, are ya Kyou?"

My lips pull back in a snarl, but Hagakure answers before I can bite off an insult. "I was just wondering why she had someone in her contacts named Purple Lighter."

"And I said back off!" I hiss, hoping the light isn't good enough for them to see the red in my face. What else was I supposed to put him in as? I can't use his actual name! He's a wanted man!

Ashido studies me for a moment. Then she breaks into a grin that has me bristling. "She's getting so defensive, it's probably a guy."

"Oh, do you have a boyfriend, Kyou?"

"I don't!" I stuff my phone back in my skirt pocket. Pinky shifts uncomfortably under the force of my glare before huffing and plopping back down into her seat.

"Hey, you should chill out," Kaminari chides from across the aisle. "They're just trying to make conversation."

"They can do that without invading my private life," I insist through clenched teeth.

Next to Sir Electric, Yaoyorozu points out, "He isn't entirely wrong, though, Kyou. We just want to be friends with you. What about you? Did you not enjoy spending time with any of us over these past few days?"

"Listen, I appreciate your efforts," I sigh, "but this and that are different."

"I don't think so. I had a lot of fun playing chess with you two days ago. We had quite a nice conversation, too. Hagakure and Ashido also want to talk with you, since they didn't get the chance to during class, and they weren't one of the students excused to spend time with you while you were under house arrest. I'm not saying you have to indulge their every whim, but please, would it be so much to endure a little small talk? We're classmates, after all."

Asui pops up from her place next to Ashido, saying, "If you don't want us to talk about boys, we won't bring it up again."

"...I would appreciate it."

Somebody scoffs farther towards the front of the bus, drawing eyes. I raise a brow, unable to see who it is from where I'm sitting. The second the person opens their mouth, however, it's clear who made the noise.

"You're all wasting your time. She's just a stupid bitch who won't hang out with anyone 'cause she thinks she's so much better than us."

This time, it's my turn to scoff. "How observant of you. And here I thought your brain was too small to realize you're a mere cockroach to me."

" _What did you say?_ " His blonde head appears over the seats as he jolts to his feet, whirling furiously to face me. "Say that again you bitch!"

"Sorry, but I'm not so kind as to repeat myself for the sake of your incompetence."

Bakugo lunges into the aisle, his redhead friend grabbing onto his arm to keep him from charging. "You shouldn't fight on the bus! At least leave it until we're there!"

"If you fight once we arrive," Tokoyami interjects, "we might be disqualified."

"Kacchan, please don't go getting into a fight."

"Shut up Deku!"

"Kyou." I glance back at Asui, who looks me in the eye. "Please don't antagonize Bakugo, if you can."

I grimace, but keep the He Started It comment to myself. Thankfully, the bus pulls to a stop before anything else can happen. The students at the front are all too eager to get off, but I linger behind until the problem child has sucked up his ego and stormed off. Only then do I rise to my feet, slipping a jawbreaker in my mouth and stuffing my hands deep into my uniform's pockets.

"Um," Hagakure starts. I don't look her way. It's disturbing to try to look at her when I can't even see where her face is. "You aren't going to start a brawl with Bakugo, are you?"

"Not unless he comes at me. Now hurry up and let me out already."

She stumbles out into the aisle and I follow. I'm the last one off the bus, and the door hisses shut behind me. I take in the building before us. It's a strange structure, asymmetrical, with the roof curling into a towering point that stands seemingly at the center. A perfectly unique building built for a perfectly unique purpose. I'm still studying it while Mr. Aizawa gives us some sort of lecture that's maybe supposed to be motivational in nature, although he isn't exactly the most encouraging character. Then, while the rest of the class is chanting UA's motto, a boisterous voice rings out over the top. My eyes tear away from the building and land on a tall fellow with a buzz cut and a stupid look on his face. Someone behind him scolds him for butting in, and with a loud voice and rigid body, the guy apologizes, bowing so deeply that his head rams into the ground. My heart sinks, and I'm unable to help the disgust bleeding onto my face. Why? Why must there be even more idiots here?

But for some reason, the atmosphere seems to darken at the arrival of this fool, and I catch the word Shiketsu being tossed around. Shiketsu? Isn't that another high-end hero school? This loser goes there?

"Yoarashi Inasa."

Everyone looks to Mr. Aizawa.

"He's...strong."

I glance back to the idiot heading towards the building. Strong? Him? Well, I guess there are a lot of people who have strong quirks, but they're pretty useless unless you have the brains to use them.

"...got the top score of those admitted through recommendations."

My mind momentarily goes blank. Then I turn to Mr. Aizawa in shock. Did he just say that idiot scored higher that _Shouto_? Feeling a little weak, I thump back against the bus. Higher than Shouto...how is that possible? I glance back up at the retreating figure, who suddenly appears more like a danger than an idiot. If that's true...depending on what the exam consists of, he could turn out to be a costly obstacle.

While I'm in the process of attempting to guess what that guy's quirk might be, an exuberant hero begins conversing with our teacher, and I stiffen. Ugh. I recognize her. Ms. Joke. The hero who can force people to laugh. It's such a seemingly useless quirk, but ever since I can remember, the idea of her has only terrified me. Any form of mental manipulation, whether positive or negative, gives me the chills.

Her class doesn't turn out to be much better. At first glance, they're like any other group of students. One of them, however, begins grabbing at our hands and ranting about how glad he is to meet us. It doesn't take me but a second to figure out his overly friendly act, so when he approaches me, I pierce him through with a look of hatred that, if he were truly as amiable as he acts, would have sent him scurrying. Instead, he simply sends a smile my way and continues interacting with my classmates, who begin apologizing on both my behalf and Bakugo's when the blonde reacts with a similar hostility to me. Although having something in common with that blockhead doesn't make me happy, I have to give it to him for noticing that guy's true face. Really, I wouldn't be so impressed, though, except for the fact that the two of us seem to be the only two to notice it.

Well…

I peek at Shouto out of the corner of my eye. He retains his usual demeanor, and if you didn't know him very well, you would suspect he didn't notice a thing. I can see it, though. Whenever he looks the friendly boy's way, his gaze becomes closed off. If he doesn't realize, he certainly suspects.

Suddenly, a bubbly blonde girl bounds up to Shouto, and I push off the side of the bus. "Hey Todoroki! Can I have your autograph? You were so cool at the sports festival!"

Confusion glazes over Shouto's expression. I don't wait. Before he can reply or she can go on, I insert myself between the two of them and pin her where she stands with a glare. She pulls back slightly, surprised, as I analyze her. Blonde spiky hair and bright blue eyes render her naturally attractive, and the large smile on her face makes her look dazzling. And airheaded.

 _Bimbo_ , I conclude. _Especially with those breasts._

"Where do you get off asking a random student for his autograph?" I snarl.

"He isn't random! Surely you saw the sports festival! He was amazing! The best one there, even if he didn't win! And he's hot, too!"

"No one needs to see your disgusting display of drooling. Stop bothering us and stick to your own class."

"Kyou." Shouto's warning comes from behind.

"You got something to say?" I snark, tossing a glare over my shoulder.

He meets my gaze head on, unafraid and grave. "Don't go making enemies. We don't know what awaits us in that building."

I smirk. "I'm just putting this bimbo in her place."

"Excuse me!?"

"You're causing trouble for us," he scolds. My smile falls. He didn't say it, but what he meant was that I'm causing trouble for _him_. Turning back forward, I cast the blondie a final glare before turning away. I've already done enough, anyway. If she doesn't know to back off at this point, that just means I need to rough her up a bit. With any luck, I'll get that chance inside. And if I don't…

Well, I can always hunt her down and beat her to a pulp on my own time.

* * *

Oof, Megumi is _not_ having this chick. I don't even know her name, but I was rewatching this episode and the second she came into the frame, I just knew Megumi would have a bone to pick with her. And possibly a couple bones to break, if that makes any sense. Also, I get the feeling she's jealous of the girl's chest. Is that just me? Otherwise, I don't think she would care enough to mention it. Sometimes, I think Megumi's hostility is kind of funny, especially when it's caused by reasons like this. What do you guys think? Would Megumi be jealous over that sort of thing? Or is she just finding every flaw she can in the girl flirting with her crush? Or is it both? Or something else? I'm literally laughing as I type this. I don't think I've ever asked my readers such a ridiculous question! I can't wait to hear from you guys, and I'll see you next chapter!


	6. Chapter 6

So I definitely meant to upload this yesterday, but for some reason, wasn't working. I don't know if my computer was acting up or if the servers were down, but no matter what I tried I just _could not_ get to the doc manager. Then I tried to get on and edit this later last night, but I was also in my brother's room watching him play Deltarune, soooo...no work got done. But here it is, it's done now! I hope you like it!

* * *

We're crowded into a room with no elbow space despite its size. It's almost as if every high school in the country, hero course or not, is here. I end up sandwiched between Jiro and, of all all people, Aoyama. That sparkly smile makes me want to sock him in the face. Perhaps even worse, though, is the little purple pig darting between everyone's legs and sneaking peeks up skirts. Even the girls who aren't wearing skirts, he stops to stare at their butts and breasts. The second his eyes turn my way, I gnash my teeth and flip him off. I can visibly see the shiver that runs through him. God, could he get any more disgusting? It's not our fault skin-tight clothing impedes us less.

When I'm sure the perverted imp has moved his sights off me, I glance down at my own outfit. My first time seeing it was in the changing room they filed us through earlier, since I've been restricted from training until now. Frankly, the hero who designed it did a good job. It's a simple design, completely black top to bottom. The top only covers my chest and neck, the pants hugging snuggly down to my ankles. Both are made of the same soft, elastic material, the only exception being a slightly stiffer strip that wraps my chest and back to provide some protection to my heart. The only accessories to it are the matching custom shoes and a thick black headband that holds my bangs securely away from my forehead.

Without my bangs, my forehead feels disturbingly bare, but I resist reaching up to touch it. Instead I pull my ponytail tighter and cross my arms. Between the heads of the crowd, I can just barely see half a figure draped across the podium preparing to speak.

He talks exactly how he looks: drained of any energy to speak of. He also routinely drops his head in exhaustion and takes inappropriately long pauses between sentences. In the end, he succeeds in delivering the message, though.

"All one thousand five hundred and forty participants will have to compete in a free-for-all exercise. We have many heroes in today's society, and after Stain's appearance, people have begun to question how qualified those heroes are."

He goes on, but I don't care about the reasoning. What he just said means we're all gonna be pitted against each other, and as someone at odds with everyone else, that makes me a prime target no matter the challenge. Maybe I really should have swallowed my temper earlier.

"Therefore it will be a test of speed. The first hundred to pass can move on."

I grimace, voices of shock raising in all directions. A hundred of us. There's fifteen times that number of people in this room. That makes my odds even worse.

As he explains the rules with targets and balls, the distress in the room only grows. I toss my head with a huff, not all too pleased myself. It's not that I'm afraid I won't pass. Me, getting a hero license...I should laugh. The idea's ridiculous. However, I've been house-bound for the past week, and I was looking forward to stretching my legs and having some fun, and fun to me is winning.

They begin handing out the targets and balls, and I readily plaster all three of my targets on my front. That's where they're easiest for me to defend, after all.

Then the room begins to rumble. Gasps raise as the ceiling splits, and as if it were a paper box, the entire room unfolds to reveal a massive, multi-terrained arena. Mountains, industrial, city, nature...anywhere a battle against a villain might take place is represented in one corner or another, and in the center, a wide dirt plane, of which we currently stand in the middle. The edges of the arena are stands, where judges and presumably teachers sit dotted around to watch. Immediately, classes begin to spread out.

I tap a finger against the ring of deflated balls resting against my hip. I have to admit, they did good to give these to those without a place to store the balls.

"Guys, we should stick together," Midoriya yells, turning to us with a determined expression. He's really gonna go for it, isn't he?

Bakugo doesn't waver and storms away. "This isn't some field trip!"

Kirishima rushes to follow him.

While the others call after them, something red moves out of the corner of my eye, and I turn to see Shouto walking in a different direction. I've only taken a few steps after him when he declares, "I'm going off, too. It's hard for me to use my abilities to their fullest extent around others."

He starts into a run and I speed up after him. When Midoriya calls after us, Shouto glances back to look at me. He doesn't stop running when he orders, "Go back, Kyou. You'd do better surrounded by people with battle intensive quirks."

"Your quirk is plenty battle intensive," I argue, catching up to run alongside him.

He turns back forward. "If I'm forced to protect you, I'm more likely to fail."

"Good experience. Heroes have to fight while protecting people all the time. But don't assume you'll have to."

"I'm not assuming. You aren't fit for battle."

"Shut up and watch."

To my dismay, his mouth actually does snap shut and stay shut. He really doesn't want to talk with me, does he? And does he really think so little of me? Sure, my quirk may not be the most battle-ready quirk in the world, but that doesn't make it any less potent. Or dangerous.

He heads straight to the industrial area, the beginning buzzer sounding just before we enter the premises. A quick glimpse over my shoulder reveals an all-out assault on the UA students who stuck together. Could I have survived that?

...Possibly. But fighting multiple opponents has never been and will never be my strong suit.

I turn away and forget about it. At least our classmates are pulling the attention away from us.

Shouto stops to rest in the shadow of a cylindrical building, and I join him. Neither one of us is seriously breathing hard, and the detail makes me smile a bit. A lot of things might have happened since we last saw each other, but one of those things is that we both got a lot stronger!

"Fifty two people have— no, fifty three people have passed."

I click my tongue. Half already? I guess that bloodbath at the beginning must've passed a lot of people. Wonder how many of our class went down.

"No choice," Shouto grimaces. "We'll have to hunt."

"Let's go, then."

He glances at me, eyes assessing, then returns to running. I keep pace with him the same as before.

He runs into the open and stays there, and it immediately clicks what he's doing. Bait. A risky move only someone with powers as strong as his would dare to attempt, and also a terrible strategy for my quirk in particular. He's acting as if I wasn't here. I don't mind. I'd rather he act like this than make concessions for me, because then I really would be holding him back.

Then, out of nowhere, he skids to a stop and flings out his hand, releasing a wave of flames that has the air around it rippling. A singed orb thumps to the ground. Behind the ball, a group of brightly dressed ninja dweebs stand atop towers and pipes. As they gloat at Shouto, I briefly peek behind us. No one is immediately evident, but considering their choice of attire, it may not be safe to assume they haven't encircled us.

"And who are you?" The speaker suddenly shifts his attention to me. I watch him carefully as he examines me. "I don't think I saw you at the sports festival. Are you not from UA?"

I kindly raise my middle finger in response.

"The two of you must be pretty confident. Travelling in a pair as a choice?"

"She could just be tagging along for protection," one of them jabs, drawing a snarl from me.

"Either way, don't you think being in such a small group will cause them trouble?"

"It's ten on two, five of us for each of you. What're you gonna do now?"

"Thank you," Shouto sinks into a fighting stance, "for saving me the trouble of finding you."

Before any of them can react, he's frozen their feet where they stand and erected a protective barrier of ice between us and them.

"How can we find out if there really are only ten?" I question quietly, scanning our unprotected side.

"If there's more, they'll reveal themselves when their friends are in trouble," he reasons.

Suddenly, an impact shakes the ice wall, and we look up to find a giant bolt stuck in it. Then comes a giant nail that wedges itself in. Another one hits, and the ice begins to spiderweb. My jaw clenches. Of course they came prepared. Only an idiot would face someone this powerful without careful preparation.

"Kyou, go!"

"What?"

He doesn't look my way, his gaze focused in on his opponents with a new level of determination. "I told you, I can't afford to protect you, so get out of here!"

I whirl on him. "And I thought I told _you_ that I don't need your protection! Have you forgotten who I am?"

He finally glances at me, and something crosses his expression to quickly for me to read. "Of course not, but—"

The ice shatters and our attentions immediately snap back to our attackers. Another giant bolt is hurling our way and Shouto raises a hand to blast it with fire. I leap to the side and he follows suit when he realizes his counter isn't working.

Disbelieving, he murmurs, "I couldn't melt it?"

"Of course not!" the red ninja declares, bolts between his fingers. "They're made of Tungsten, which can withstand high temperatures!" He flings the bolts and shatters the ice around his companions' legs. With all ten of them free once again, the red ninja mocks, "What did I say? You're overconfident!"

Shouto doesn't hesitate in blasting fire their way. They've got a solution for that too, though, as sand and water manipulators counter with their own full force. More ice, more projectiles, more clashes of fire and extinguishing elements, and the entire time I'm forced to dance away from any oncoming attacks. Most are aimed at Shouto, however, deeming him the dangerous force, and in this scenario, they aren't necessarily wrong. The utter lack of my involvement has me grinding my teeth, and my fists shaking with rage. Seeing us like this, Shouto and I really do have abilities on the opposite ends of the spectrum.

We're almost...incompatible.

Suddenly there's an explosion of smoke and Shouto is dragging me into a run. I stumble the first few steps, unprepared, then match his pace, his hand releasing my arm.

"What're you doing?" I huff, beginning to run out of breath. I can barely see him next to me in the dense smoke...or is it water vapor?

"Using the terrain. They wouldn't have given it to us if we couldn't use it."

As we're running, he ignites a poster, then pierces a giant storage tank, and I can hear gas quietly streaming out. He makes the hole a bit bigger to negate the noise. Then, grabbing me again, he rushes in the opposite direction. When the students chasing us approach the decoy poster, he blasts fire at the tank before immediately raising a wall of ice. I'm about to flatten myself against the ice wall when Shouto pulls me towards him, his arm wrapping around my shoulders. My eyes widen, but any chance to react is stolen from me when the tank explodes. As the resulting wind billows past us, I glance up at the boy who's pulled me to his side. He's entirely focused on our enemies.

As soon as the wind has somewhat died down, he releases me and dashes around the ice wall. I collect my bearings and follow. By the time I've rounded it, he's already frozen the injured students to the ground, all of their limbs covered in ice to prevent the use of their quirks. He pulls out a ball and approaches the closest incapacitated student. I also pop one of mine off its ring, and it inflates in my hand. I'm not too happy about leeching off of his victory, but by the same token, I'm not about to let go of some easy prey. Especially not when so many people have passed already.

Something flashes.

Without thinking, I chuck my ball. It collides with the little projectile and they both crash land off course.

That course being straight for Shouto.

A quick glance reveals the mysterious object to be a shiny grey ninja star. A glimmering, silver, lethal weapon.

My blood boils as I turn on the person who threw it. An oversized ninja dressed in green crouches at a distance, more stars in his hands at the ready. His clothes are ripped, his leg seemingly injured, but it's clear he escaped the brunt of the blast.

The next one he throws my way. I turn to the side so it grazes by before charging. He throws another at me but I don't even care. I fucking _catch_ the thing, the blades sinking into my fingers and just barely missing my palm. By the time he's readied another, I'm pulling him up by the collar.

"You fucking _dare_ throw something like that at _Shouto_? You wanna die? Huh? Do you?"

He attempts to stab me in the side but I bat his hand away as if it were a newborn's.

"Fine. I'll grant your wish, you son of a bitch." I throw him down roughly and raise my hand. It's been awhile since I've felt it, the way the dots on my hands and forehead attract. It's almost magnetic when the two collide. The hand on my forehead stays fisted, though. Instead I use my other hand, grabbing him by the temples and forcing the palm of my hand in front of his eyes.

The moment he's seen it, he's already gone still, but I dig my nails into his head anyway as he starts to quake.

A moment later, a blood curdling scream rakes out across the arena.

* * *

Well, this one was fun to write. A lot happened. The down side is I felt like Megumi didn't really do much for most of it, but unfortunately, this wasn't a good environment for her quirk to work with so I couldn't work it in...until the end. She uh...kinda lost it again. So...thoughts? Do you think she was significant enough in this chapter? I don't want her ever to just be along for the ride. I feel like too many OCs are like that. On another note, though, she also used her quirk for the first time. I know it was at the very end, so we'll probably get some more background on it next chapter, but first impressions? I nervously await your comments, and I'll see ya'll again next chapter!


	7. Chapter 7

Heyo, what's up? Originally I had this afore note talking about story pacing and my thoughts concerning this story on that, but honestly, I've just had kind of a bad day. I used to take the opportunity in these afore notes to honestly talk with you guys, but somewhere along the lines I kind of stopped sharing my life. I know this isn't a diary or anything, but I kind of like to think of my readers as my friends. I pour myself into my writing, after all, so it means a lot to me when you guys enjoy it. It hasn't exactly been the best day for me, but I'm glad I at least got this chapter finished and posted. I hope that, if any of you also happen to be having a rough time, my story will cheer you up a little. Even if it isn't always the happiest story. But I digress. You're here for the plot, so let's get to it.

* * *

Neither of us speak as we make our way out of the arena. I can feel Shouto's eyes on me, but I keep my gaze locked ahead of us.

My mind lies elsewhere, though. The scream still rings in my ears, the look of terror singed into the front of my brain. It's been so long since I last used my quirk. I've always wondered if my victims blood runs cold the way mine does when I use it. I hope it doesn't. It wouldn't be satisfying if they were able to harden themselves like this. That bastard deserved to suffer.

When we arrive at the waiting room, a worker waiting outside removes our targets before moving aside for us to pass. The room is already bustling. I step through the giant doors and immediately make a beeline to the chairs lining the wall, but one boisterous voice has me pausing.

It's that big guy, the idiot Mr. Aizawa had been impressed with. Who supposedly was stronger than even Shouto.

Shouto brushes past me and I start back into motion, sitting beside him on the line of chairs. I don't miss the freezing glare Inasa briefly sends to the person next to me. I turn to see if he also noticed, only to find mismatched eyes fixated on me. My mouth snaps close as I change my words.

"...What?"

"...You shouldn't lose your temper on the battlefield."

I scoff, a slight irritation kindling at the chastation. "Does it matter? We both passed."

He sits back, crossing his arms. "That's the first time I've seen you willingly use your quirk."

"Willingly?" I raise a brow. "You've seen it before?"

"Back when we were eight."

"What—" The memory abruptly flashes back to me and my throat cinches. I struggle to regain my voice, but all that manages to come out is a strangled, "Oh."

My hand rests against the area I normally have a pocket filled with either candy or smokes, my tongue twisting aggravated in my mouth as I recall the unpleasant day. The two of us had snuck out of the dojo to the park. Unfortunately, some of my classmates had happened to be there when we arrived.

It was a day I had tried hard to forget.

Itching to change the subject, I return, "Well, it's the first time I've seen you willingly use your left side in person." I rest my elbows on the back of the chair and avert my gaze. I don't try to hide the bitterness in my voice when I add, "I see you've taken to it."

"Don't misunderstand. It's half of my quirk. It has nothing to do with my old man."

I can't help the sneer that comes to my face. "Yeah, because he has nothing to do with why you have such a quirk in the first place. Have you honestly forgotten that you're just some well-bred showdog to him? Because of that very quirk?"

"I have not." The tone of his voice has me peeking his way out of the corner of my eye. His hands wring in his lap. "I have not, but this quirk is mine, and I do want to be a hero. I would be a fool if I didn't use it. I won't let him get in the way of achieving my goal."

"You're just giving him what he wants," I growl through gnashed teeth.

"I have no desire to become number one. I just want to be able to save people. Kyou, please understand."

"Then why do you call me Kyou?"

He doesn't respond. I shove myself to my feet, refusing to look at him. "If that bastard really didn't have an influence over you, it'd still be the same as it was when we were little."

"Kyou—" Movement in my peripheral vision indicates he's also stood up.

"Oh! Todoroki, Kyou!" Yaoyorozu's voice draws our attention to a group of four walking our way. Along with her are Asui, Jiro, and Shoji. A well rounded group, as far as quirks go. As they get closer, Yaoyorozu asks, "Where is everyone?"

"You're the only one's from our class to arrive since we came," Shouto replies, casting a sideways glance my way. The girl's smile fades a bit, but she tries to keep up her spirit with a bit of banter.

"It's too bad we didn't get to fight together," she addresses me. "I didn't get to see your quirk in action!"

"We're all pretty curious about it," Asui croaks, her finger at her lip. It seems to be a habitual stance for her. "None of us have got to see it yet, since you transferred in."

I dismiss, "I didn't really use it. Sho— Todoroki took out a large group, and I gained from his spoils."

"We didn't really get to use all of our quirks, either," Jiro shrugs.

"But we worked together efficiently," Shoji notes.

Asui droops. "I was kind of useless, though."

"Don't say that! I would have been in trouble if you guys hadn't come after me when that one girl got me isolated." Yaoyorozu turns to Shouto. "How about you? Did you have any trouble?"

"It would have been easier if I hadn't had to watch for Kyou."

I grimace. "I didn't get in your way."

"I still had to be cautious of you. Our enemies might have had quirks to combat mine, but if I hit you with my flames, you wouldn't have had any protection."

"Easy solution. Just use ice." Before he can say anything more, another group of our classmates walks in, and attention is diverted. As the people already here greet the new arrivals, I slip away. I glance back at the screen when the announcer declares the shrinking number of spots left, and nearly hesitate in my step. Shouto stares after me. I don't let my squeezing heart get to me and immediately turn away.

It isn't just Shouto that has my chest heavy this time, although I'd be lying if I told myself he wasn't a part of it. He always is. But when I looked back and saw the growing group of UA students, laughing and worrying for their friends and chatting, they all looked alight. Like gentle lights gracing the unforgiving world. Kind of like the smile All Might always used to wear.

I grit my teeth and recall to mind the fragile, pathetic man I met in the counselor's office. That's all it is. All they are. No matter who it is, everyone is a disappointment. Even...even Shouto.

But they're hero material. Even if that light can be snuffed out by a single puff, it's what makes a hero.

Someone bumps into my arm and I whirl, glowering. The girl jumps, and I see with a snarl that it's that busty slut from before who was talking up Shouto.

"Sorry…" she mutters. "...Congrats on passing."

Not in the mood to entertain her in the slightest, I hiss, "Get out of my sight before I break that pretty face of yours."

This causes her dainty, barely-there eyebrows to furrow as her expression hardens into a glare. "I don't care if you get in trouble and disqualify yourself, but leave me out of it. I actually want a hero license."

"I said _get_!" I snap, shoving her shoulder and storming past. Eyes bore into me as I throw open the door to the locker room, but I ignore it and let it slam behind me. Quickly, I hunt down the locker I stashed my stuff in when I changed and dig out the container of tic-tacs I smuggled in. Leaning against the lockers, I toss a handful in my mouth and crunch, longing for a hit of nicotine.

"Kyou? Kyou Megumi?"

I raise my head to find a tall redhead in a reflective uniform and an eye-shield looming over me. Disturbed by the height difference and proximity, I push off the lockers and step away from her, snarling, "And who the hell are you?"

"Ah, so it really is you," she exclaims, a dark grin spreading on her face. "I saw you when we were coming in, but I really thought it couldn't be. _You_ getting a hero license? But then I saw that guy getting wheeled out of the arena while having a mental breakdown and I just knew it had to be you!"

I swallow the contents in my mouth, uncrunched tic-tacs scraping my throat on their way down. "I asked who the hell are you!"

"Don't you remember? Shizuka Nana, from middle school."

"Doesn't ring a bell."

"Well I guess I wasn't as popular as _you_. I wasn't the villainous daughter of a hero."

"The fuck is your point?" I hiss, none too pleased. Never in my life has there been a single classmate I was fond of. We haven't even parted yet, and seeing her has already left a bitter taste in my mouth.

She doesn't flinch back. "I just thought it was funny! You actually want to be a hero? Is it because your father's one? Or…" Her eye-shield glints mischievously. "Is it because that boy you like is becoming a hero?"

"None of your business."

"I'm just curious. I mean, the only thing you're good for is torturing people, so we all thought that if anything, you'd join the police as an interrogator. You'd be great at it! But why a hero? It makes no sense if you think about it. You're just a delinquent that can't follow a rule to save her life, with a talent for torment. You're villain material through and through!"

She's barely finished her words when my fist connects with her jaw. She stumbles backwards, stunned, her eye-shield crooking sideways on her face, and I wind up for another blow. This time slightly more prepared, she skirts clumsily out of reach of my swing, still hunched over and cradling her cheek.

"You're g—"

"Shut the fuck up bitch." This time she shrinks away, perhaps seeing the fire in my eyes as I glare down at her. Fist raised in threat of a third blow, I fume, "You think you know everything, don't ya? If you know all that, you think you'd be smart enough to keep your mouth shut! If you want me to be a villain that bad, why don't I start now, with you as my first victim? How's that sound? Huh?"

Her one exposed eye returns my glare as she straightens, hand still at her throbbing cheek. "You're evil."

"Cause you're all just so innocent!"

Without another word, she pivots on her heel and takes off out of the locker room. There's no doubt in my mind she's off to tell an adult she was assaulted and get me disqualified, if not worse. I huff, then wrench open my locker and snatch my stuff. Like hell I'm just gonna wait for them to come take me away. Slamming it shut, I sling my bag over my shoulder and storm towards the exit.

When I lay my hand on the door, though, I pause. My fingers knead the handle as I think about what I'm doing.

A hero's license…it's so close. I already passed the first test,and easily at that. If I continue...I could do it. I could really do it. I could actually be a hero…

...except I can't. Now that I hit that girl, there's no way they'll let me through. They're more likely to call my dad, or call the police if I prove difficult. And besides, she's right. My quirk isn't something one can use for good no matter how I might try to delude myself. This whole thing is ridiculous. I should have never come to UA. The only good it could have possibly done me is give me the chance to cozy up to people who are bound to be my enemies, and I couldn't even manage that. I'm wasting my time.

My fingers clench resolutely around the handle. As I push down, the image of my classmates in the waiting room flickers through my mind. Their smiles, their laughter, their friendship...Shouto…

A person like me doesn't belong with people like them.

I shove open the door and stalk out of the building.

* * *

Language, Megumi, language. Honest, guys, I'm trying to keep it toned down because this is rated T, but she's really making it difficult for me. She isn't exactly the type to candy coat her words. She's, uh...not very happy right now. Then again, she's not exactly a happy person, if you haven't caught on. We'll have to wait and see where this unhappiness takes her. Since it's the holidays, I should have more free time to write, so hopefully I'll have the next chapter up soon. In the meantime, I'm curious to hear your guys' thoughts as always. See you again soon!


	8. Chapter 8

Happy belated Thanksgiving everyone! I hope you all stuffed yourselves silly like I did. I really wish I had a bigger stomach at times like these so I could just continue eating. My cousins also came to visit, which was nice. We really only ever see each other during the holiday season. I think we'll go visit them during Christmas, but that's a whole mess right now, so who knows exactly what's happening. Anyway, this chapter is a tiny bit short, but that actually surprised me. I thought it was going to be one of the longer ones, but I guess not. Sometimes I worry that I'm too concise, and I get to the point too quickly. Especially on fanfictions, I don't linger on too much detail. But that's a whole other can of worms, so let's just get to the story before this tangent gets too long.

* * *

The machine blares all of its lights as the downward spiralling Game Over tune jingles out. With an infuriated scream, I smack the side of it hard enough to make it rock. The kid that had been watching me startles and scuttles away. I seethe at the score glowing on the backboard, which sits only a few thousand under the all time high. Cursing, I stuff in another two quarters and yank back on the launcher. The ball once again begins to clank around as I mash at the buttons on the side. I've just earned a second ball when the kid from earlier wanders back.

I send one of the balls up to bounce around in the top area. "There something you wanna say, kid?"

He's silent for a moment, his eyes following the erratic movements of the balls. Then he ventures, "You're really good, miss."

"Good?" I don't flinch when a familiar voice addresses the child, zeroed in on a ball that's begun to fall back my way. "Did she beat her high score again?"

"What's her high score?"

"Dunno. Haven't played in a while."

The kid's eyes widen. "You mean the high score is hers?"

I hit the left button just a smidge too late and one of the balls slips through the flippers, drawing a growl out of me. "You're being a distraction!"

"I came to hang out, not to stare at you while you vent your frustrations."

I slam both my hands onto the sides of the machine, fuming, my second ball sinking down the drain. I still haven't moved when the ball for the next round loads. "I'm done," I huff, shoving myself away from the machine. "You can have the rest of my play, kid."

The child's eyes brighten and he readily takes my spot. I stand before the looming figure who joined us, glaring up into the hood.

"Took you long enough," I spit.

He shrugs. "I wasn't close."

"Then why'd you come?"

"It's been awhile. You've been too caught up in your hero studies. Speaking of…" He tilts his head sideways imploringly, dark hair falling into eyes the color of his flames. "Weren't you getting your provisional license today?"

I whirl, planting myself at a street fighter machine. "I thought I told you not to ask questions."

"Which is why I waited until I got here," he brushes off, putting his own coins in the machine's second coin slot. We each immediately go for our usual avatars and start the match without delay. "What happened?"

"Nothing." I land a combo. "I just realized this whole farce is stupid."

"You didn't pass?"

I block and launch a counter attack. "I did, the first part. I left before the second part started."

"Why?"

"I told you," I grind a out a particularly difficult set of moves, "I just realized I was wasting my time!"

I'm panting when the screen declares me this round's winner, our health bars displaying just how one sided the entire game was. Irritated by the lack of difficulty, I abandon this game for a shooter, a decision which leaves Dabi quietly studying me as he picks up his own gun.

As we begin picking off hordes of zombies, he says, "I don't care if you don't tell me the specifics, but it's obvious you're lying."

"I'm not!" I insist, teeth gnashing as he swiftly takes out a zombie I missed. "I just met an old classmate and remembered my place."

"So something did happen."

We lower our guns, the words Game Over flashing on my side of the screen. Without his attention, his half of the screen soon reflects mine. Placing the gun back on its mount, he stuffs his hands in his pockets and asks, "So you're done with UA?"

"I have no plans on going back, if that's what you're asking."

"What about Shouto?"

My lip twitches, my fingers clenching around the gun I was putting down. "He's made it clear he thinks of me the same way everyone else does."

"So you're giving him up?"

"Not likely," I scoff. "But there's no point in trying to mold myself into something he doesn't think I can be."

"Then can I take that to mean I can call you an ally?"

"Don't push it." I push past him and exit the arcade. Standing outside the doors, I open a newly bought package of cigarettes and hold one out for him to light. He obliges, and I inhale a sharp puff of smoke. "Thanks."

"UA's made you a stickler for rules," he muses, glancing at the arcade's no smoking sign.

I scowl. "Shut it. When have you ever seen me smoking in there? I don't want to get on the bad side of this place's employees."

He chuckles and I take another hit.

During my time inside, rain clouds have moved in to coat the originally blue sky, causing the neon, flashing lights inside the arcade to project out the windows as if it were night. The bright, temperamental lights dancing across the back of Dabi's dull hoodie manage to sneak a partial smile out of me. Such colors actually suit him surprisingly well.

"Say," I sigh, exhaling a stream of smoke as pedestrians float past us. "Why did you become a villain?"

To my surprise, he actually supplies me with an answer. "It isn't necessarily that I want to be one," he shrugs, glancing down the street. As he talks, I reach over and pull his hood a little lower. He may not be a well known villain, but the heroes have seen him before, and he's rather distinctive. He ignores my gesture. "I just don't really care much for society's labeling. I decided to chase my own values, and I ended up on this side of the fight."

"You're own values, huh? Like Stain?"

"I don't agree with everything that guy did, but his philosophy matches mine pretty accurately. What about you?" He turns to meet my eyes. "What are your values?"

"Loyalty," is the word that reflexively spills from my mouth.

"That's interesting, coming from you."

"Because I don't have people to be loyal to?" I take the cigarette from my mouth, studying it between my fingers. "I do, though. I'm loyal to you, as a friend, so long as you're loyal to me. I was loyal to Shouto all those years we were separated. I still would be, if he hadn't gone and betrayed me. And I'm loyal to myself. Whatever I want to do, whatever I want to get, I get what I deserve, nothing less...and nothing more. Other than loyalty, I appreciate having the power to back up your words. An empty promise is no better than a lie. And one should always have dignity. And while we're at it, it doesn't hurt to be intelligent, either."

"In that case—"

A _whoosh_ knocks the ash off the end of my cigarette, my let-down hair whipping momentarily into my face. Shrinking down the road is a person running on all fours with a bag slung over their back. People shriek as they scramble out of the way, the unlucky ones who are slow to react getting barreled over by the runner. I roll my eyes, lowering them with my hand as I discard my used smoke and go to grab another, when the top of my peripheral vision glows alight with reddish yellow. It's gone in less than a second, but by then I've lifted my head to see a fireball colliding with the behind of the cheetah-esque runner. The person shoots upright with a yelp and collapses to the ground, rolling in desperation to set the fire out. In the meantime, a bulky figure marches past us to grab them. My hand freezes around the end of a cigarette.

A hand on my shoulder reminds me of Dabi's presence, but I can't move my eyes off of the hero.

"Sorry, Kyou, I have to go."

I press my lips shut and swallow hard, my head creaking as I give him a barely existent nod. Then his hand is gone, and I can feel that I'm the only one left lingering in front of the arcade. As the hero throws the singed villain into the hands of newly arrived police, I gulp hard again, and slip the cigarette back into its box. I've only just coaxed my foot to take a step away when the hero turns, and of course, with my wonderful, ever-courteous luck, our eyes meet.

My heart rotting within my ribs, I find myself staring into the yet another pair of vivid blue eyes, these ones surrounded with a constant blazing mask.

He goes rigid, and after barely a second of thought, he storms my way. Likewise, every muscle in my own body tightens with painful tension, yanking taughter with every step he comes closer. My breathing turns shallow, then stops entirely when the air begins to grow warmer with his presence. I force in a shuddering, hot breath when the monstrous man comes to a halt only a car length away from me.

 _Endeavor_.

"I heard you cheated your way into the UA," he booms, his chilling gaze as piercing as the ice his son wields. "So you still haven't given up on my son."

Why is he here? This _abomination_ , this _insult_ , why _now_?

"Your father was always weak hearted. A man too eager to please. If only he had a little more backbone, I imagine he might have been able to suppress you, but now I see you've got him under your thumb enough to manipulate him and his connections."

Voice hissing out between my teeth, I seethe, "Shut up."

"I don't care what strings you pulled to get them to ignore a complaint from me. I _will_ find a way to pull a worthless villain-in-the-making like you from that school."

The cigarette box crumples in my grasp. "Is that how you should talk to the girl who was previously engaged to your son?"

His eyes narrow. "I thought I made myself clear back then. That was nothing but idiotic talk between those two women. I would never give my son to someone like you."

Before I know what I'm doing, I've taken a step towards him in threat, my body quivering at the implications in his words. "I can't believe," I snarl, "for a _second_ that scum like you is related to Shouto."

"I don't care if you believe it. He is my son, and I _will_ protect him from hazards like you."

Suddenly, a thought hits me. He'll protect him, will he?

I can feel the twisted grin stretching my lips as the idea begins to form. Oh, if he only _knew_ what his words have done!

Stuffing my hands into my jacket pockets, I throw my head to fully display my victorious smirk, which has new waves of aggravated heat rolling off of him in response.

"Alright," I agree, challenging his glare. "We'll see if you can manage."

* * *

Ohoho, what is she plotting? Stay tuned to find out! I think she's actually planning on doing things a little differently than I had planned, but it's her life, so I'll let her take the reigns. Thoughts? Predictions? Opinions? Honestly I can't always figure out what she'll do, but what do _you_ think she'll do? Also, there was some other important information sprinkled in there that we'll probably touch on later. Look forward to that! I'll see you guys again next chapter!


	9. Chapter 9

Wow, you guys really seem to like this story. I'm looking at all the follows and favorites and I'm practically blushing. It really is such an honor to be able to write something so well received. I really hope I can continue to deliver. It honestly gives me mixed feelings of anxiety and excitement, although part of the reason my heart is pounding so hard is probably because of all the coffee I just drank. The caffeine's really hitting me right now. But regardless, I really am ecstatic to write for you guys. I hope the newest chapter is to your liking as well!

* * *

The next morning, all eyes are on me when I enter the classroom. I don't make eye contact with any of them, instead heading straight to my seat in the back. Sitting down, I throw my feet up on the desk, exchanging the bubblegum in my mouth for a candy less likely to be noticed by our teacher.

Two people are notably absent.

"Kyou Megumi." Class rep strides to stand in front of my desk, pushing up the glasses on the bridge of his nose as he obnoxiously inquires, "Where have you been? Not only did you skip the second half of the provisional license exam, but you failed to return to the school dorms at all last night! What is your explanation?"

I suck on my candy, staring at the tip of my shoe. "I went to the arcade."

"You skipped class and stayed out to go to the arcade?" His voice rises as he speaks.

"Yep."

"As your class president, it is my duty to inform you that you will be punished harshly for such disreputable acts! I cannot condone such—"

"Chill out," I sigh, finally turning my eyes upwards. "I know there'll be consequences. I don't plan on doing it again."

This causes him to pause, the rest of the class absorbing what I've said. Then, out of nowhere he declares, "I hope you take the opportunity to turn your life around," and struts back to his seat.

As conversations start back up, Yaoyorozu makes her way back to my seat. Her hands are latched behind her back, her face hopeful as she asks, "Why the change of heart?"

I shrug. "Nothing really changed. It just takes me a while to settle into a new environment. I'm not used to being confined this rigorously."

"Is that so?" She cups her cheek in her hand. "Thank goodness! I was worried you didn't like any of us, and that was the reason you kept running off!"

"There's some news you might be interested in, Kyou," a little ribbit informs me, bringing my attention to Asui. She stands beside Yaoyorozu, her expression unreadable. "They said those who didn't pass the second part of the examination can take a course in March to get their license."

I tilt back in my chair, thoughtful. "I see. Does that mean there are others who didn't pass?"

"Ah," Asui hesitates. "From our class, there were three."

Yaoyorozu counts them off on her fingers. "You, Bakugou, and Todoroki."

"What?" Having been rocking on the back legs of my chair, I let the front legs fall to the ground with a clang. "Shouto didn't pass?"

"He got in a fight with Inasa during the second half, and both of them lost too many points because of it."

I slowly nod as I take this in. So that Inasa guy really _was_ trouble. Judging from the way he looked at Shouto in the waiting room, he must have something against him. I wonder what it was. Part of me wishes I would have stayed, just to see it: Shouto in a one on one match.

Kicking my feet down, I rise and brush past the two girls in front of my desk, heading to where Shouto sits three desks down. He was watching me even before I slammed a hand down on his desk. His posture is impeccably straight, his hands resting and ready for use on his desk. I meet his cautious gaze with a grin. "Too bad I missed that fight of yours."

Apparently, that isn't what he was expecting, because it takes him a minute to respond.

"You shouldn't have ditched to go to the arcade."

"It was fun," I laugh, splaying my hands in a show of innocence. His lack of reaction makes it clear he doesn't know what to think of this. Resting a hand on my hip, I invite, "You should come with me next time. I'll slaughter you in Street Fighter."

"Kyou." His hands have clenched into fists. "What are you doing?"

I purse my lips in a mock pout that doesn't really hide my amusement, offering him my puppy dog eyes. "Being friendly! I just thought that we should start getting along again, if we're going to be taking the course together in March. Do you not like me being amicable?"

"Wow wow wow! The anti-social beauty is asking the class pretty boy on a date!?"

For once, that purple grape doesn't get on my nerves, his comment only raising more laughter to my lips. "Nah," I smirk, never breaking my eye contact with Shouto. "I'm not _that_ generous."

I wait for Shouto's response, and, as it seems, he isn't too eager to reply. It hasn't escaped my notice that most of the classroom has gotten quiet, either. Honestly, I should have decided to do this sooner! Everyone's reactions seriously make me want to laugh! I don't think I've ever enjoyed making waves as much as I'm enjoying it right now!

Eventually, his voice barely above a whisper, he mutters, "You've changed so much."

"Have I?"

Louder, he relents, "Let's get along then," and extends me his hand. His gaze remains wary, his voice formal, but I still have to prevent the rush of triumph from making its way onto my face as I grasp his hand. A small chill zips through me at the nostalgic coolness of his grip, adding fuel to the already burning excitement inside me.

Oh Shouto, if only you knew.

Mr. Aizawa enters as I retract my hand, so after flashing Shouto a sly smile, I slip over into my chair. Next to me, Uraraka sends me a friendly smile, before turning her attention to the front of the class. I haven't exactly been in the classroom enough to know if that's a regular behavior for her, but I'm inclined to say it means she's not as afraid of me as before. Because I'm being complacent? Maybe. That _is_ the idea.

In the front of the classroom, our teacher waits for our attention, his oppressing presence being all that's needed to quiet us down. His eyes immediately find me and bore into me from across the room. I opt to avoid his gaze, the empty hallway suddenly ever so interesting. The look turns out to only be an assurance that my behavior won't be overlooked, because he launches into homeroom the moment the room is silent. His topic is over the assembly I skipped this morning. He covers one other thing Asui brings to his attention, then declares, "Well then, I'll let Mic take over from here."

I can't help but cringe when the door slides open and that obnoxious screeching hero shouts something about English. My eardrums ringing, I stick a pinky in the ear closer to the door to block out the noise.

"And Kyou." Aizawa pauses on his way out of the classroom to meet my eyes. "I'll speak to you in the hallway."

"Yessir," I comply, sliding out of my desk and slinking past the first hour teacher who's already begun to set up his stage at the front of the room. Even with Eraserhead awaiting me outside, I'm all too happy to shut the door behind me.

The first thing I note when I turn to face Mr. Aizawa is that he isn't blinking. Physically, I don't feel any different, but there's not a doubt if my mind that if right now I were to put my hand to my forehead, nothing would happen. I have to admit, it's almost preposterous how perfect his quirk is against me, and how helpless mine is against him.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" he starts, his tone of voice as grave as grave could be.

"Sorry teach, won't happen again."

"If you aren't going to take this seriously, I will personally expel you from my class, if not from this school."

Whoops, should've done a better job at hiding my smirk. Quenching my amusement for now, I try not to make it obvious I find my current behavior laughable. "I shouldn't have run off. I broke the rules and caused trouble for you, and maybe even my classmates. Sorry."

"You will not be allowed to participate in the March course. If you want your provisional license, you will have to retake the test on your own in the future. We have been patient with you, Kyou. There are a number of things I should have punished you harshly for and have let you off easy. One more strike and you will be suspended from U.A, understood?"

"Yes."

"Also, we have scheduled you a home visit tomorrow. You will go home after school and are allowed to spend the night. You will be expected to be on time to class in the morning."

"Huh? Why are you sending me home?" I would get it if they were kicking me out, but just for one night? Without missing any school?

"Just be glad you get to go. We've hardly allowed any excursions since the dorms have been instituted."

"But—" Before I can get out the _why_ , Mr. Aizawa has already turned and started down the hall.

All levity gone, I stare after him. Did something happen with Dad? Is that why they're sending me home? But the timing is too strange for it to be something as simple as that. And he said "we", meaning this decision was made by the UA, not by him. UA doesn't move without a clear purpose. So what is it this time?

Mood thoroughly soured, I whirl and slam open the door. The class falls silent with the sudden entry, but I just slam it shut behind me and make a beeline to my seat in the back. Plopping myself into my seat, I cross my arms and legs and wave for Mic to go on.

As his rambling starts back up, I dismiss my concerns. Whatever they've got planned, it can't be serious. They may suspect, they may anticipate, but they don't know where I stand for sure, so if they're doing anything, it'll be an attempt to either uncover that or solidify it. Either way, I'm in no immediate danger. They're clearly keeping their eyes trained on me, though. Maybe a little more focused than I'd like.

I subtly peer down my row to where Shouto sits, his eyes locked on the blackboard in the front. While it's true their watching me might not have me in any immediate danger, they might gain some sort of intel. The longer they watch, the bigger the risk of them discovering my intent and acting to prevent its fruition. Ideally, I'd like to take my time, but…

It looks like I might have to rush things along. Just a little.

* * *

Shout out to my friend (who will probably never see this 'cause she hasn't read my stuff in so long) for helping me figure out what Megumi's next move would be. I knew what she intended when she became resolved, but I was a bit at a loss as to how she'd do it. If any of y'all are stuck writing, I highly suggest consulting friends. Sometimes, they'll give you answers so obvious you overlooked them. Other times, they'll have ideas you never would have dreamed of. An outside viewpoint really is valuable. Anyway, I'm over the mini writing block I had while trying to write this chapter, so now I can blast through a couple chapters! Hopefully! Thank you guys for reading, and I'll see you again next chapter!


	10. Chapter 10

So there's one little scene that happens in the anime that didn't quite make it in here, but it won't effect anything. I hope you'll all forgive me. I just wrote, and that part didn't happen. No faces sticking through walls here. Anyway, I've been in a rather good mood lately. It's actually kind of weird. I wonder if it's because I'm sleeping well, or maybe it's because this story has been getting so much love. It's probably a little of both. That may be part of the reason I was so eager to work on this chapter. Well, let's get to it then! Enjoy!

* * *

I quickly screw the cap back on and slip it into the inside pocket of my jacket. For a second, I watch the water begin to boil. Then I turn and ask, "What're you making?"

"Macaroni." Jiro lifts a box off the counter to show me its front as she pours broccoli into another pot to be steamed. The girls have taken turns every night cooking dinner upon common agreement, I myself being the only exception. I've never cooked a day in my life, and I have no desire to learn. The only boy I've seen cooking for other people would be Sato, that guy who likes to bake. His reasoning was something along the lines of expanding his horizons. I don't really know if I believe him when he says it's not already a hobby of his, considering the one meal he's made since I came was the best out of all of them. I don't particularly consider myself a picky eater, but I would take his cooking over anyone else's any day.

"Does that work?"

"Hm?" I break from my reminiscing and give her a vague, "Yeah, sure, sounds good."

"Well don't ruin your meal with candy," she chides, eyeing the sucker in my mouth. I avert my eyes and notice Midoriya entering the kitchen, lugging a bursting trash bag at his side.

"Um, Jiro, shouldn't I be preparing the meal?" he wonders. "You know, since Kacchan and I are supposed to take care of work in the dorms."

She shrugs him off, shooing me out of the way to pour the noodles in the boiling water. "Don't worry about it. Some of us enjoy making food."

The freckled boy wilts. "But it feels like I need to have stuff to do! I'm missing so much in school already, so all I can do is do my best around here."

"The teachers are punishing you, not us," the girl grins. Then, to prevent him from continuing to argue, she plugs her earjack into her phone and begins humming along to some song. Dejected, Midoriya sighs and hefts the bag over his shoulder. When he nods to me and exits the kitchen, I pop my sucker out of my mouth and move after him. I catch up to him when he's shoving open the entrance with an awkwardly placed hand. Before he can open it entirely, I slip up beside him and push it the rest of the way. When he looks up questioningly, I drop the remainder of my sucker in the small opening of his bag.

"Thanks."

I follow him out, the door drifting shut behind us.

He pauses. "You don't need to come with."

A packet of smokes come out of my pocket and I put one to my lips, flicking on a lighter. "I can't exactly do this inside."

"Ah." He falls silent as we walk, thinking. Then he asks, "What if a teacher sees you?"

"I either risk it or smoke inside." I breathe out a stream of smoke, savoring the pungent weight in my mouth and lungs. I haven't been able to smoke very much since coming to this school, and it's been driving me insane.

"Why don't you stop smoking? It's bad for you."

I scoff and hold the cigarette out to him. "Clearly you've never smoked before. Try a few of these, and you'll start needing them constantly to stay sane."

He eyes the offered cancer stick with a vague look that seems to suggest the word _gross_ , with maybe a hint of fear on the side. It's no surprise when he shakes his head. I return it to my lips and suck in a lungful of addictive smoke.

"So," I start, "you're friends with Shouto, right?"

"Yes, I am! Ah, are you finally trying to fix things between the two of you?"

The air presses around me oppressively with the weight of his beaming aura. I take a long drag of tobacco before replying, "I told you, there aren't really things to _fix_. I'm just curious as to what he's been doing while we were apart."

"Well, I've only known him since the beginning of the school year" he begins, seemingly all too glad to divulge, "but I like to think we've become good friends. He was a little aloof before the sports festival, but ever since, he's really been opening up, I think. He's a good guy."

"That was the first time I've ever seen him use his fire," I comment, glancing sidelong at the boy beside me.

"Ah, well…" He mirrors my glance. "...How much do you know about that?"

"His fire? I know that, until the festival, he's avoided using it because it's from his god-awful father. He wanted to become a hero without using it so he could throw his achievement in that bastard's face in a way that Endeavor couldn't take any credit."

"I guess you would know that," Midoriya nods. He turns his head away, staring off into space as he talks as if, as he speaks, the scene is coming back together before him. "I actually talked with him before our fight." He snickers. "It was kind of his declaration of war. He told me about Endeavor, though. I could never get where he's coming from, but I really didn't think that his dad, no matter how bad he's been to Todoroki, should get in the way of his dream. Especially if he went through that as a child, I think he deserves to achieve his goals. Don't you? So during our fight, I tried to make him realize that: that his quirk had nothing to do with his dad. His quirk is amazing! Even more so because he knows how to use it! It's his to do what he wants with, so he should use it, right?"

I roll the cigarette between my fingers. "So you're the reason he started using it."

"If that's the case, then I'd be glad. I really think he's gotten happier since he stopped avoiding half of himself."

My fingers fumble and I'm forced to let the still-burning stick fall to the ground. Midoriya looks back to me, slightly concerned. I don't give him any further indication of my turbulence, taking out and lighting a second cigarette. If that's true, if Shouto really is happy, that's good. Avoiding half of himself...I never thought to put it that way. I've never thought he wasn't whole. His flames were the same as his father's, and neither one of us wanted such a stain in our lives, but does that mean...I encouraged it? I encouraged him to suppress himself? Even back then...I made him unhappy?

I breathe in deeply, sighing smoke from my nose as I use the tobacco to restrain myself. "So the two of you are pretty close, then?"

"Yeah." He nods again, this time with life. A bright smile adorns his naive, freckled face.

With this confirmed, I allow myself to move on to more...personal interests. "...Does he say anything about me ever?"

His smile wanes a bit. "Well...sometimes."

"So not the best of things," I deduce. I drag a hand through my bangs, the bloody design on my palm flashing briefly in my vision, and smile wryly. "Figures."

"He cares about you, though," he rushes to assure me. "His eyes are always following you. I think he worries about you a lot."

A pang in my heart surfaces the grimace I'd been trying to suppress. Worry. The only thing that gets him to turn his head my way is worry. I guess if that's the case, I'm on the right track to monopolize his attention.

"What about you?" I change the subject. "And our classmates? What do you all say about me?"

He scratches his cheek lightly with his free hand. "We're all pretty curious about your quirk, I guess. You haven't said anything about it, and we haven't ever seen you use it."

"What about your quirk?" I shoot back.

"What about it?"

"Is it just super strength? I mean, it's pretty handy, but it's also pretty simple."

"That's pretty much all it is. Even if it is simple, though, I'm still working on being able to control it. It'll be much more useful once I have full control over it."

Oh yeah, his quirk is fairly new, isn't it? "I bet it takes a lot of concentration to not let it run wild."

"It does. I can't use it if I'm too distracted." He stops to heave the bag into the incinerator we've arrived at. With his focus trained on his work, he misses it when my lips twitch upwards. I regain full control over my expression by the time he turns back to me. We return to the dorms without any teacher seeing us, and after snuffing my cigarette on the pavement, I throw the butt into the bushes to hide the evidence. A couple of the girls try to approach me upon our return, but I shirk around them and lock myself in my room. When then pink girl, Ashido, comes to fetch me for dinner, I dismiss her with an, "I'm not hungry."

I grab my phone off the nightstand and call Dabi. He picks up after a few rings.

"Is there something else you need?"

"Nah." I flip myself onto my bed, head in my pillow and one ankle propped on the other knee. "Just some clarification." Slipping a hand into my jacket, I remove the little bottle, turning it curiously in my grasp. "You said the poison isn't deadly, right?"

"That's what Kurogiri said."

"What did he say the effects were, exactly?"

"He said it would show itself like a cold unless directly injected." Sensing my next question, he continues, "It causes severe delirium if injected."

"Do you think it would cloud concentration?"

"I didn't ask, but probably. Did you think of something?"

"I've had an idea since I decided to join. I'm just working out the details. In light of that, if things go well, the entire class will be pretty weak within the next few days. If there's something you guys wanna do, just remember Shouto's off limits. Hurt him," I snarl, "and I'll send you all to hell."

"I know."

"Thanks again for your help." I smack a sarcastic kiss into the receiver and hang up. For the moments after, I stare at the ceiling and revel in my plans. Then something occurs to me and I frown. The house visit tomorrow. I won't be here for dinner. How do I use the poison, then?

Grumbling, I roll onto my side. I'll either have to find a way to use the poison despite that, lengthen the time until I implement the plan, or get my hands on a syringe. There are plenty of druggies on the streets that I could easily steal a needle from, but it's probably safe to assume a heavy dosage of the poison could have lasting effects. I'd rather not do more harm than I have to. If it's necessary, though…

I raise my hands, inspecting my palms. If people have to suffer because of me, so be it. Since the day I was born, I was fated to cause people pain.

But…

My hands drop. I'm being sentimental. Even if I _like_ some of these classmates, it can't be helped. Besides, all of them have something annoying about them. Uraraka's too bubbly, Asui's too observant, Yaoyorozu's too well-mannered, Midoriya's too… My eyebrows furrow, perplexed. Surely there's something annoying about Midoriya. There has to be! Maybe...maybe he's too innocent? But somehow it's not really annoying with him.

He's too perfect. That's it.

It seems such a superfluous reason, even to me, but I stick to it as I continue down the list of classmates, checking off an obvious flaw I detest in each and every one of them. I run down the list until there's only one name left, and that one, that one I shrink away from. But, stubbornly, I slowly begin to check off the things wrong with him, as well. His list isn't a simple run of words like the traits I stuck to the others. My mind swirls, a sickness beginning to churn in my stomach as I force myself through each admission.

He uses his father's fire

He's cold to me.

He sees me the same as everyone else.

He...doesn't care anymore.

Despite what Midoriya claims, it's clear he doesn't. Even if he's watching me, it's because I'm dangerous. It's always because I'm dangerous. Every single person, every time, the only reason they care is because I'm a threat.

The knot in my stomach strains too tight to bear and I yank myself off the bed and grab a bottle of sleep meds hidden beneath my bed. Popping two tablets in my mouth, I swallow them dry and stuff myself under the covers without changing clothes.

I do my best not to think as I wait for the medication to drag me into unconsciousness.

* * *

She's really trying hard to keep herself under control, and, I guess, in a way, she's not doing too bad. She isn't exactly using the best methods, though. I would like to talk more, but my brother has been pestering me for the past few days to watch Evangelion with him, so I gotta go do that now. Should be interesting. Catch you guys next chapter!


	11. Chapter 11

I've got two projects due tomorrow. Yippee. Honestly, while they're both kind of complicated, I'm looking forward to them a little. Each of them is somewhat up my alley. However, I've never really been a project person. I like to be given something to get done and get it done immediately, not spend hours on it. I always get them done, though, no matter how much I try to procrastinate. I wouldn't be taking the time to post this if I didn't know for sure I could finish them up this afternoon. And I've got errands to run, too. Ugh. It's almost like I'm becoming an adult. Somebody stop me.

* * *

The sleeping medication causes me to sleep through breakfast. Ashido's banging and Uraraka's urgent calling hardly manage to wake me up in time to run to school. As I slump into my desk with a groan, I realize that, having missed breakfast, and with lunch being at school, I won't have any chance to poison them today. A low growl rumbles in my throat as I'm confronted with the reality that I'll have to change my plans by either slowing them down or speeding them up. Dabi said Kurogiri was very clear that, if it's not administered regularly, the effect of the poison won't be strong enough to show. So far today, my only stroke of luck is that I fell asleep in my uniform last night.

Needless to say, it isn't easy for me to act in any way chummy today. For the first few hours, I can still feel the sluggishness of the medication, and even after that, the fact that I was forcefully woken has me yawning throughout the day. And since I had to jump out of bed and run, I didn't get the chance to grab my candy. Even with the box of cigarettes scrunched up in my pocket, it's not like I can just take out my lighter and light one.

The girls are social with with during their free time since I was open yesterday, even some of the boys daring to talk to me during lunch. I'm unable to resist taking a swing at Mineta when he makes a particularly vulgar comment about my ass, but since the little cretin manages to avoid it, the girls flock to my defense, not his. Classes drag by second by second, like the ticking of a clock, although there isn't one on the walls. When the end bell rings, I throw back on my jacket (having left it draped on the back of my chair during class) and stand. As I'm flipping my hair out of the leather, Uraraka rises to her feet and asks, "Do you want to walk back together?"

"Sorry," I dismiss her curtly, meeting our teacher's eyes. "I'm going home tonight."

"Is that allowed?"

"Yep." I brush past her and, as I'm heading out the door, tell Aizawa, "I'm leaving, then."

"Kyou," Shouto's voice has me pausing to listen, "where are you going?"

I glance at him over my shoulder. He, like everyone else, has risen out of his seat, but unlike the others, he's stepped after me. I see the unease in his eyes and force a smirk more confident than I feel. "Visiting Dad. You should come see him sometime. He hasn't had the chance to see you since Mom died."

As I hoped it would, the mention of my mother causes him to retreat a bit, and I take the opportunity to exit the room. I sigh as I make my way down the hall, students beginning to spill out of their classes. Everyone's always so touchy about my mother's death. Truth is, though, I was over it before I could even grieve. Even at such a young age, I was already showing the tendencies of a villain. It's honestly strange it's taken me this long to set myself on this path.

I light up a cigarette the second I'm off the campus. After taking a moment to enjoy the fleeting rush and resulting calm that the nicotine sends through my limbs, I send Dabi a text and head off. About ten minutes later I push open the door to a burger joint. I order myself a cheeseburger and, upon the request of the response to my earlier text, a hamburger, and a large fry, paying with a couple wrinkled bills that had been crushed beneath my cigarettes. I snag the bag when it's ready and leave. A long walk and another smoke later, I've arrived at our hideout.

My dark haired companion puts away his phone upon my entrance, and I plop myself on a neighboring beanbag to unpack our meal. Since it's already lost most of its heat, he sets a small blaze alight in his hand and we hold our food over it for a bit before eating. As he takes the first bite of his hamburger, he asks, "So, how'd you get out?"

"Th' 'eachuh 'ent me 'ome," I answer through a mouthful of burger. Swallowing, I shrug, "I guess it was supposed to be some kind of disciplinary action, like notifying my dad and having him ground me or something."

He raises an eyebrow. "The Magician punishing someone?"

"He's never scolded me a day in my life," I confirm, chomping off another bite. I chew it, taking the time to consider my next words. "I wasn't able to give them the poison today because of it, though. Do you think I should wait? I'd honestly rather do that, but if the UA is really concerned about me, sooner might be better than later."

I snatch a couple of fries as I wait for his reply.

After few bites to collect his thoughts, he decides, "If you're going to do it, then I think you should hurry up."

I glare at him when he implies I'll back out and take my next bite harshly. "Right, then. I'll do it as soon as I can."

When I don't say anything after that, he takes it upon himself to continue the conversation. "So," he begins, watching me stuff a handful of fries in my mouth, "are you going to actually go home tonight?"

Still a little irritated, I snap a short, "Probably." When he waits for more, I let out another long breath and relent. When he wants answers, he tends to be pretty stubborn about getting them. "I don't want to give them any more reason to keep me on a tight leash before I act."

"I see," he accepts.

"Because of that," I go on, "I should probably get going. I might get in trouble if I stay out until dark, and I've still got something I need to do."

"What?"

I give him an annoyed glance as I stand, stuffing the wrapper of my food back in the bag. "Stuff for that thing you don't believe I've got the guts to do."

He smirks. "I know you've got the drive. I just don't know if you're hard enough to pull it off."

I wad up the bag and chuck it at his face. He catches it without trouble. Kicking aside a beer can by my feet, I excuse myself with a quick, "Later," and leave him to finish his food. In an effort not to deplete my cigarette supply too quickly, I drop by a convenience store to purchase a small bag of mixed candy on my way to my destination.

Said destination lies conveniently close to our hideout, and between it and my house. It's a little ways out of the way, if you consider the alleys you have to wind through to get to it, but no more than a five minute detour each way. The abandoned little building rises only a measly three floors, shorter than the towering old structures around it. Without glass in the windows, boards are nailed in place to keep out the wind. The front door is missing, too, the hole haphazardly boarded up similarly to the windows. Those boards, however, are too sparse to keep anything out. I easily contort myself to slip through them into the dark lobby beyond. The entrance smells of mildew and rat piss, each retained by the remnants of carpet left stuck to the floor. The smell is unappetizing enough that I'm forced to spit out my jawbreaker, flicking it into a corner so dark it swallows the white little ball like an abyss. My eyes gradually adjust to the dimness as I make my way to some of the back rooms. The first one is locked, but the second one, one missing a door, holds what I'm looking for.

The figure on the couch startles awake at the noise of my rummaging, and for a minute, the man just stares at me dumbfounded. It doesn't take him long to start sputtering, "W-What the hell? What're you doing you bitch! This is my stuff!"

When the dude lunges to grab me, I roll to the side, grab his arm, and twist it behind his back. He huffs, already spent even before he starts to struggle, and I take advantage of our position to glance at his arm. It's too dark to see anything. I block him when he tries to whack me with his free hand, shoving him closer to the window for better lighting. With my suspicions then confirmed, I jerk him closer and growl, "Where do you keep the syringe?"

He spits, "Fuck off!"

"I said—" I kick him to his knees and whirl him around, just barely keeping him upright with a hand twisted in the collar of his shirt. "—where. Do you keep. The syringe?"

This time he literally spits. My jaw clenches as I wipe away the wet splotch above my eye. Patience dwindling, I snarl, "Don't make me use my quirk."

"Use it," he dares, glaring at me defiantly.

Still holding him in place, I squat down to his level, reigning in my voice until it comes out with an underlying chill. "Listen, scum. My quirk won't hurt you at all. What it _will_ do is sink into you brain and dig around. It'll dig out everything you hate, everything you fear, and throw you into hell. People I use my quirk on lose all sense of sanity, consumed by every single negative emotion you try to escape by injecting yourself with that syringe. No amount of heroine can help you. So tell me where the syringe is and go find yourself another." When he continues to gripe, I shove him down roughly, and he collapses like a pile of twigs on the room's bare concrete floor.

He then spins to continue harassing his intruder and seizes, his eyes turning saucers as they graze across the pattern on the hand set against my forehead. A guttural choking rises in his throat. His body begins to shake uncontrollably as his eyes fly from my palm, but unfortunately for him, once my quirk has kicked into gear, it isn't something you can simply stop. He scrambles back until he collides with the wall, then keeps pushing back as if he doesn't realize he's hit it. I lower my hand with a grimace and return to ransacking his stuff. There isn't much, really. Just stuff he's accumulated. Some boxes, some cans, an old sock, anything that might prove slightly useful to him. I'm just leaving the pile he's got in the corner when he begins to retch. Despite my best efforts, as I make my way to the couch he was on earlier, I can't help but glance his way. Without any food in his stomach, acid spews from his mouth with a uniquely foul stench, splashing onto the floor. I turn away before I can gag and tiptoe out of reach of the splattering substance. When I pull the needle out from under a pillow, I whirl without delay and take my leave, ready to be out of this place.

I delicately place the syringe in my pocket and duck under a board to get out the entrance. Released from that horrid place, I suck in a deep breath of clean, non-scented air. Then I pop an orange cream flavored drop in my mouth and reroute myself back home. I try not to think about the disgusting scene I left behind.

Towering wrought iron gates meet me upon my return. I eye them with trepidation, a strange new nervousness settling over me. Despite the grandeur of the twisting metal designs, never once have I hesitated to push open the gates to my house. They've always been there, ever since I can remember, as natural as breathing. For some reason, however, this time, they give me pause.

Should I be worried? I still don't know why I've been sent home. What is it waiting for me beyond this fence?

I reach out, my fingers curling over a stone-cold rose suspended between two bars, and push.

* * *

This chapter would have been longer, except if I had finished what I wanted to get done in this chapter, it would've been at least twice as long as my usual length. So I split it. I think there's enough content in what's to come to make it a chapter unto itself, so look forward to that! I don't really have much more to say other than thanks for reading, and I hope to see you all again next chapter.


	12. Chapter 12

I haven't eaten an actual dinner in the past two days. Two days ago, it was a dessert buffet at a concert, and yesterday, I went to a movie and just got ice cream afterwards. Normally, I have a massive sweet tooth, but I can't do any more sugar! It's too much! I need real food tonight, but I think we're gonna get pizza. I don't think I've ever dreaded the deliciousness that is pizza so much. But anyway, regardless of my diet, let's get to the story.

* * *

I make my way across the drive. On either side, rose bushes without blooms create the boundary between the driveway I walk on and the stone gardens beyond. A long time ago, those stone gardens used to be green gardens, with hedges and flowers and trees. Then Mom died, and for some reason, Dad thought it best to transform her favorite part of the house. It never really bothered me. I think I like the stone gardens better.

Rounding the small marble fountain in the center of the round drive, I step up the small staircase to the front door. I ignore the lion knocker and shove it open. A thinly carpeted expanse filled only by twin staircases greets me. I absorb in the familiarity of it, as well as the abstraction. This house...it's just a house. It's the place I've lived my entire life, and yet, from an early age, I don't think I ever really thought of it as a home. It's just another place I know the ins and outs of.

"Ms. Kyou, welcome home."

I lower my gaze from the second floor to a woman who stands in the arching doorway on my left. Her short, dark hair clips close to her chin, a worn apron covering a particularly nice shirt she's paired with one of her maxi skirts. She must be almost thirty, now, but she doesn't look a day older than the day she started working here.

I cut to the chase. "Why was I sent home?"

"I'm afraid I do not know the details," she replies, head still lowered, "but Mr. Kyou is currently entertaining a few guests in the parlor. They have been here since five. I suspect they might have something to do with it."

"Guests?"

"I believe you should see them for yourself." She finally raises her head, and I avoid her amber gaze. I linger for a moment longer, fingers fiddling with the item in my pocket, then move past the woman to the room behind her. It's a small room, its main purpose being the lengthy window seat spanning the entire front wall. It was never a place I spent much time in, other than cutting through it like I am now. As it was an open doorway to the entryway, it's also open to the main hall running through the mansion's left side, and I take the hall down to the decorated mahogany door at the end. It stands slightly ajar, hushed voices floating out through the crack. One of them, vaguely familiar, has me frowning even before I enter.

The parlor, unlike the little room before, is a place I've spent much of my time in. Although it's technically for entertaining, when it became just me and my dad, we pretty much ceased to have anyone over. That and it's position at the far left point of the house makes it one of the most secluded areas you can be in. On the left, a gaping window spans the length of the room, rounding out into the stone garden beyond. Two large, plush chairs face each other within the glass casing with a small ornate side table between them. Then, running across the length of the room stretches a navy Persian rug over the deep red carpeting, the wall across lined with paintings and bookshelves broken up by candle holders. On the other end, a stone fireplace crackles below a powered off TV, and behind a group of uniform chairs and a matching love seat.

A blonde man and a brunette woman sit on that love seat, a man with slicked, dusty purple hair in the far chair around the coffee table. All three of them have lifted their heads at the groan of the door opening.

The first thing that has me bristling is the presence of All Might. I don't quite close the door behind me, anticipating the need for an escape.

"Welcome home, Megumi." The man in the chair straightens and flashes me an anxious smile. "Why don't you join us?"

I don't acknowledge his invitation other than crossing the carpet and lowering myself into the single empty chair across from him. In the moment of silence following my arrival, I examine the only unfamiliar face in the room. The woman next to All Might, although she has a naturally soft face between her soft curls, has an expression of authoritative business. Her hands are folded neatly in her lap.

"Hello, Ms. Kyou," she greets me without warmth. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Mrs. Fugo, and I work as a counselor for teenagers like yourself. Your school has hired me to talk with you about your recent behavior."

I sink back into my chair and throw one leg over the other. A counselor. Of course they sent me to a fucking counselor.

Seeing my reaction, All Might pipes, "Mr. Aizawa wanted to expel you, but he agreed if you cooperated with Mrs. Fugo, he would give you another chance."

"You're assuming I want to stay at UA."

"Megumi—" I glance up at the man across from me. He's dressed in a suit, but not his usual, sparkly show suit. The suit he wears is the single plain grey suit he owns, his only black tie secured around his neck. I haven't seen him dress this dull since Mom's funeral. His eyebrows are furrowed in a failed attempt to look like a strict parent. "—enough is enough. I let you do what you want because I thought it'd run its course, but you can't keep acting like this." Tears glimmer in the corners of his eyes despite his efforts to contain himself. "Going to the UA was the first thing I've seen you want in years. I beg of you, don't ruin this for yourself."

"Kyou," I turn to the emaciated All Might, "we want you to stay."

He nearly goes on, only to be interrupted by Mrs. Fugo clearing her throat. When the two men have quieted, she sets each hand on a respective knee and meets my gaze, her confidence boiling my blood. "You need to understand your position. I'm sure you are aware that the UA does not normally take transfer students. I'm sure you have surmised that they allowed you in for consideration of your father, but that is not the primary reason they accepted you. You, Kyou Megumi, are on the list of potential villains. Considering the magnitude of you quirk, the UA decided it was best to take you under their care to foster you onto a better path. You must understand that your position is precarious."

I slap an arm down on the armrest, turning the gaze I'd averted to glare at her. Glowering, I snarl, "Do you think I'm an idiot? They shoved me into the highest class, of which I have _no_ reason to be in, and you think I missed why I'm there? I would have to be retarded to think that me having a quirk that has to be looked at and the teacher having a quirk that stops quirks by looking at them were placed together by _coincidence_."

"If you realize that," she leans forward, hands refolding, "then why do you continue to act up? Do you _want_ to be a villain?"

"Only a fool would want to be hated."

"You should realize you aren't being 'cool' by doing this. Choosing a life in prison is nothing but pitiable."

"If that's all you have to say…" I stand, intending to head for the door.

"I would like to talk about your mother, Kyou Sachiko."

I briefly glance at her out of the corner of my eye. "Nothing to talk about."

"I understand from talking with your father that you were close with your mother."

"And she died. Woe is me.

"Tell me about her."

I turn to leave.

"Let me remind you if you do not cooperate, you will be expelled," All Might states, gentleness gone from his voice. I very nearly stalk out, regardless, but the shape of the syringe in my pocket reminds me of my plan: my goal. Hands shaking from the effort to keep my cool, I whirl and stomp back to my seat, throwing myself down onto it and sending every ounce of hostility I can muster towards the demeaning woman.

"My mother," I begin, voice cold, "was the same as every other mother. I was attached to her, but when she was killed, I got over it."

Seeing I'm leaving it at that, she prompts, "How did you feel about the fact that your father didn't make it in time to save her?"

A sharp intake of breath has me glancing at Dad. Clearly, judging from the tears that have escaped him, he wasn't expecting this to be brought up. Or maybe he was anticipating it, but praying it wouldn't be. I reply without looking away from him. "Never blamed him. He took her death harder than I did."

I look away when his tears start coming faster.

"But as a hero, he was useless."

She's trying to probe me. "He does his work just fine. This house is proof. Sorry to waste your time, but the vendetta you're searching for doesn't exist."

"It's rather apathetic of you to be able to say such a thing concerning your mother. I find it hard to believe you weren't emotional about it," she pushes.

"Ask Dad. I wasn't broken up about it even back then."

"She only cried once," he confirms, wiping his eyes, trying to pull himself together.

"Lack of reaction inclines me to think you poured your emotions elsewhere."

Truth is, I was heartbroken over my mother's death. I just had more pressing concerns at the time. Trying to make it through every day of school without getting ridiculed or beaten was a much more pressing concern to me than the circumstances surrounding her death, so I basically forgot my sadness by the time school started the next day. "If you think I started acting like this as a result of her death, you're wrong. It was years later the first time I got in trouble for fighting."

"Why did you get into a fight, that time you got in trouble?"

I vividly recall the kid, a boy who could send pathetic sparks from his fingers like sparklers. I can still hear his laughter as he grabbed me by the hair, his triumphant exclamation that he had caught the bad guy...just like Endeavor.

I shrug. "Don't remember."

"What about childhood friends?" When I shrug again, she ventures, "Your father tells me when you were little, you were good friends with the Todoroki's youngest." I stiffen, casting a glare at Dad that has him cowering. "I believe his name was Shouto. He's a classmate of yours now, isn't he?"

"He is," I confirm, immediately on guard. "What of it?

"Are the two of you friendly nowadays?"

I watch her through narrowed eyes. "We shook hands and made up. Ask anyone in my class."

Her lips twitch up in a slight, victorious smile, and my lips begin to draw back viciously over my teeth. "Enlighten me. What was it you had to make up for?"

"Fuck you."

"Megumi." Although I'm sure Dad meant to scold me, the word comes out as more of a plea.

"It's quite alright, Mr. Kyou," the woman assures him, sitting up straight. "If she's getting defensive, it means we're getting somewhere."

"If I'm getting defensive," I growl, rising purposefully out of my chair, "it means you had better _back off_."

"That's where things have gone wrong," she declares decidedly, cool as a cucumber. "Until now, people have 'backed off' when you got like this. Ms. Kyou, you are not the most dangerous thing in the world, and you cannot do whatever you like. Whether your quirk is powerful or not, you are confined to the same rules as the rest of us. If you act as though you are not," her smile widens triumphantly, "then you are the definition of a villain."

There it is. That's what I was waiting for. Adults always restrain themselves to saying I'm on the path to becoming a villain, that I'm acting like a villain, but this is what they always actually mean to say. From the very beginning, to the eyes of every single person I have ever met, I was already a villain.

Even to my parents.

Shouto was the only one who saw me differently.

"I'm done," I bite in disgust. Pivoting on my heel, I rant as I storm to the door. "I've stayed long enough. If you still want to expel me, do it already! But I _did_ comply to this level of revoltingly invasive analysis! I _did_ sit and let this bitch worm around and try to figure me out, so don't you _dare_ say I didn't comply!" When I reach the door, I flip a look over my shoulder, eyes locking with the brunette counselor even as I snark, "Have a _wonderful_ rest of your day, Mr. All Might."

The door being as dense as it is, the walls rattle when I yank it shut. Eyes wide with rage, breaths quaking in my seething, I fume down the halls. When I make it to the stairs, the maid attempts to follow me to the second floor. Without glancing back at her, I hiss, "You are dismissed, Kana."

I can see her bow even without looking, her mannerisms so familiar I can guess at them. I fly the rest of the way up the stairs and slam the door to my room.

In solitude, I lean back against the door and try to even my breathing. The imprint of the conversation, however, pricks like a ball of thorns in my mind, constantly tearing my irritations open afresh. That woman's accusatory tone, the way she treated me like a wild animal to be tamed, the way she acted as if she'd won when she discovered a weak point.

The reminder of the hatred I've only once failed to receive.

The reminder that now, even that one person is lost to me.

Anger coursing through me, I shove off the door and jerk out the box from under my bed. The flaps rip as I force it open, pages crumpling as I dig in my hands and chuck the books and papers across the room. Handwritten notes detailing the histories of top heroes, I crush into balls and hurl. Printed articles on spectacular heroic rescues, I shred and let fall to the ground. I only pause when, with all the kids books about heroic aspirations scattered and destroyed, a small figurine lies uncovered at the bottom of the box. Hand shaking, I reach in and lift the doll, turning the proud, grinning face to face me. I think of the bony, frowning man downstairs—

—and snap off his head.

* * *

This chapter went on a whole page longer than I usually write, but a lot of it's dialogue, so it probably looked like more to me than I actually wrote. So we got more insight as to her family situation and upbringing here. I can't wait to dig into even more detail in chapters to come, because obviously, a lot has shaped who she is now. But what do you guys think? What do you imagine Megumi to be like as a child? I've given you some background, but I haven't really addressed her specifically, so I'm curious! Also, I have an interesting idea I want to implement next chapter, so hopefully that'll happen. I'll tell you in the next afore note if it does. But look forward to that, and I'll see you guys then!


	13. Chapter 13

So, if any of you guys read the post note in the last chapter, you'll know I had a little something special planned for this chapter. And I decided to do it. You'll figure it out pretty quickly I think. Anyway, though, Christmas is coming up. When I was little, the Christmas season used to feel so long, but nowadays it feels so short. Like, it was just Thanksgiving! Where has all that time gone? I think maybe it's because I'm so much busier with actual life now compared to when I was a carefree kid. Like, for example, I'm writing stories. In light of that, let's get to it!

* * *

"...Why do you think she was sent home last night?"

Balancing my chopsticks on the side of my finger, I give Midoriya a slight shake of the head. "I don't know. I can't think it was good."

"But I heard she said she would change," he insists, setting his rice bowl back on the table. I flick the chopsticks so they spin a rotation in my grasp.

"She did, but it was odd. She looked similar to the way she did back when were kids whenever she was hatching some sort of plan."

Midoriya considers this for a moment. "Then you think she's planning something?"

"I'm not sure," I sigh. "That's what her behavior reminded me of, but it was different. It used to be when she was plotting something, she'd get really excited over it, but yesterday she was more...cocky." The memory might be a bit blurry around the edges, but I can still see her pale eyes sparkling as she spilled her ideas to me. Her eyes had the same energy yesterday, but seeing it now somehow sent alarm bells ringing inside me. Her intent no longer feels innocent.

"Well, maybe that's just because her personality's changed a bit," Midoriya reasons.

"Could be," I agree. Honestly, though, I don't think that's all it is.

"Don't be late to class," Iida reminds me as he heads towards the exit. He salutes briefly to Midoriya. "See you after school."

The boy across from me raises his hand with an uneasy smile. "Yeah, see you."

"I should get going, too." I stand and push in my chair, pretending not to notice when he eyes my untouched plate with concern. "You should wake Bakugo so you aren't cleaning by yourself."

"Ahaha, I don't think Kacchan would be very happy about that."

I give him a small smile. "He doesn't have the right to complain, though. This is his punishment, after all. See you tonight."

"Have fun at school. And don't worry about Kyou too much. She probably just went to see her family."

I ponder Midoriya's words as I walk to school. Is she on good terms with her father? She always used to prefer her mother over him. I wonder if their relationship soured after Mrs. Kyou's passing. I really hope they became closer afterwards, but something tells me that isn't the case.

When I slide open the door to the classroom, the absence of clamoring chatter tugs my eyes to the desk in the back corner. Her feet crossed atop her desk, my childhood friend taps away at something on her phone. With all of the girls who usually approach her still missing from the room, our arrived classmates all eyeball her in curious, nervous silence. For a moment I watch her as well.

I subtly breathe in a deep breath as I close the door behind me. Whether she's planning something or not, yesterday was the first time the two of us were able to talk with each other without one of us setting the other off. At the very least, she might be willing to interact with me calmly for awhile.

Well aware of the number of stares that have shifted to me, I make my way back to her, coming to lean back against the desk in front of her. She finally seems to notice me when I position myself. Her head lifts, her dusty pink eyes appearing from under wine purple bangs, and for the briefest of moments, something akin to panic erupts behind them. It's gone so fast I'm forced to wonder if I imagined the expression, her lips settling into a smirk.

"Morning!" she greets, pocketing her phone. "Miss me?"

I decide to avoid the obvious question, and instead choose to ask, "How's your dad?"

"I suppose he's doing just fine. Looked healthy enough when I saw him. I'm sure he'd be delighted if you visited."

"Maybe I should."

She doesn't respond immediately, and for a second I get the distinct impression that my words have caused her to freeze. But, like before, her initial response is quick to pass. She breaks out of her momentary stupor with a sudden snort. "I'm sure _your_ dad would be ecstatic to learn about that." Her tone turns mocking. "Poor little Todoroki, seduced by the villainous witch."

I flinch, but it isn't her sardonic jab that bothers me. Witch, when we were little, was a favorite word of my dad's when talking about the girl I would always sneak out to play with, and every time he said it to her face, it would always get a rise out of her. Many times, after all the yelling and insulting had stopped, she'd burst into tears.

" _I-I'm n-not...a witch!"_

"Kyou, you're back." I break eye contact with the girl seated before me and look over at Asui, newly arrived. She glances between the two of us, greets me with a nod I politely return, then asks, "What happened yesterday? Mr. Aizawa said he sent you home for the night. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, it's good," Kyou smirks. "I just hung out in my room all night. Not much different from being here."

Uraraka slips into the seat next to her. "Well I'm glad you came back for school today! It already feels empty in here with Midoriya and Bakugo gone."

Everyone begins to shuffle to their seats, and I glance to the front of the room to see our teacher walking up to the blackboard. With one last look at my childhood friend, who meets my gaze slyly, I head over to my desk. As I sit down, Yaoyorozu leans her elbows gracefully on her desk and smiles, "I'm glad the two of you have started to get along again."

"I am too," I agree absently. She must notice the vagueness of my voice, because her smile falls a bit.

"The two of you used to be close, right?"

I nod, and before she can ask anything else, Mr. Aizawa begins to speak. Class drags on as normal, and during lunch, Iida comes back to sit with me. Yaoyorozu goes out of her way to join Uraraka, Jiro, and Kyou. I find myself routinely glancing their way as I eat.

Most of the girls have really begun to befriend Kyou, if you could call it befriending. That's probably what it seems like to them, but the way Kyou only ever responds to them with quick, simplistic answers shows she's still closed off to them. Hagakure and Ashido are the only two girls who still don't approach her, and it's clear why. Evidently, she can't hide her animosity towards them the same way she can with the others. And I do think there's hostility. Despite the fact that she smiles and puts up with the other girls, there's something stony in her eyes when she looks at them. She's turned into someone completely estranged from the Megumi I knew.

It's disturbing.

When the school is over, I leave by myself. Back in the old days, the second our martial arts class was over, Megumi used to latch onto me and we'd be together until sundown. Now, she doesn't even glance my way. Everyone seems to think we've gone back to being friends, but honestly I can't help but feel like she treats me like her enemy.

I push open the door to the dorms only to be bombarded with a raging Bakugo. A feather duster lies discarded and half featherless on the floor, evidently thrown down earlier, as the temperamental blonde overwhelms a nervous Midoriya with shouts that ring off of every wall. I sigh and approach Midoriya. Due to Bakugo's tantrum, I'm forced to get unusually close to him so he can hear me say, "I see you've had an eventful day."

"Ah, not really. He was working quietly until a moment ago."

"DON'T IGNORE ME!"

"If you don't like that you have to do this," I face the blonde, "you shouldn't have started a fight. You brought this on yourself."

"SHUT UP! THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU!"

"Then don't argue like this while I'm around."

"Did Kyou come back?" Midoriya wonders. Thoroughly disregarded, Bakugo lets out a noise somewhere between a growl and a yell before storming off to the boy's wing of the dorm.

With the nuisance taken care of, I confirm, "She did."

"Did she say why she was sent home?"

I sigh. It feels like I've been sighing a lot, ever since Megumi showed up. "No, she avoided the question, meaning there was definitely an unpleasant reason for it."

"Oh." His eyebrows crease. "She didn't tell you?"

"She doesn't trust me." The words pain me to say, but I'd be lying to myself if I said otherwise. I step past Midoriya to the kitchen counter and pluck a pen off the open notepad, jotting down the time. "I'm going to visit my mother. I should be back around seven."

"Now that I think about it, Kyou didn't sign out like you do, did she?"

"Her visit was a one time deal." I hope. "Our situations aren't the same."

"Maybe you should bring her with you."

My hand freezes where it is placing down the pen. "What do you mean?"

"Kyou. You said the two of you and your moms were all close, right? Why don't you take her to see your mom, then?"

"Yeah I'll think about." Without another word, I head to the bathroom to change out of uniform. When I emerge, most of my classmates have returned, and Midoriya is busy rushing around to all the spots he missed cleaning that the boys are teasingly pointing out. My childhood friend lounges on the couch with Tokoyami and Asui, her chin leaning boredly against her knuckles and her elbow propped on the armrest. As I'm passing, she briefly catches my eye and smirks. I hoist my backpack farther up my shoulder and exit the building.

Out of pure luck, my mother's hospital is close, but even if it wasn't I'd still go out of my way to see her multiple times a week. I've avoided her for so long, and now that I've stopped, it's clear just how unreasonable I was being. I've lost so much time with her because of it. My feet shuffle to a stop in front of the hospital as a thought crosses my mind.

Avoiding...I'm avoiding Kyou, aren't I? I've interacted with her enough for it to seem normal, and I've meant to talk with her multiple times, but even when we do talk, I can never take the conversation where it needs to go. For some reason, I keep refusing to actually confront her.

A sudden sting in my palms has me abruptly uncurling my fisted hands. I stare at them. I learned from an early age that I'm not immune to my own abilities. I may be resistant, but if the heat or cold is too concentrated, say, when I've clenched my fists, I still get hurt. It's been awhile since I let my emotions get the better of me and hurt myself like this. Even when I argue with my father, I've taught myself to control my abilities under that specific stress.

My quirk extinguished, I close my hands again and step up to the glass doors. They slide open and I walk in to the front desk. The woman behind it, Mrs. Haruki, breaks into a wide smile as I greet her and tells me to go right ahead to my mother's room. I thank her and head to the elevator. When I knock at the door of the room, the voice that was absent for so much of my life invites, "Come in."

Upon seeing me, she sets down her knitting needles. It's a hobby she picked up during her time here under the hospital's care. Nowadays, she's stable enough to be released so long as she's not around my father, but she insists on staying, and Dad hasn't said anything about taking her out, but with her clarity of mind present and her life limited, she's taken up quite a few little hobbies to occupy her endless time. For the past week or so, she's been adamantly working on a thick, off-white scarf. Pushing the near finished accessory to the side of the bed, she motions to the stool next to the mattress.

"How was school today?" she asks as I sit, giving me her full attention.

I let my backpack fall to the floor. "It was good. Most of the classes were just lectures, and what little homework they assigned should be pretty easy."

"And what about Megumi? Did she make another fuss again?"

"No." I lean forward and massage my forehead. "She didn't, but...something feels off. She's still guarded and aggressive. I almost feel as if there's a reason she's trying to behave."

"Well," Mom partially mimics me, leaning her elbow on her knee and cupping her cheek in her hand, "is there a reason you think that's a bad thing? Even if she's acting out, you know her. She's a good girl. Spunky and determined. Clearly that hasn't changed. She might just be struggling to break bad habits right now."

My lip twinges up in the ghost of a smile. "That hasn't changed...but somehow she feels...nefarious."

A thoughtful crease appears between her eyebrows, her cloudy eyes analyzing me intently. Then she sighs, and I'm ashamed to find I've put sadness in her expression. "Shouto, you have to understand. She's been seen as a villain her entire life. Do you think that just stopped after you stopped seeing her?" When I'm silent, she continues. "She's only acting the way she's been acting because of how hurt she is. She needs you to be an understanding friend now more than ever."

"I know," I shake my head. "You said this already."

"And I feel the need to repeat myself." She smiles softly. "You were so mad when she first came back. I'm sure that hit her hard."

My heart sinks. "But since then—"

"I know you've been trying to be patient with her, and you've told me how difficult she's turned out, but if you aren't entirely open with her, she's going to realize. Don't just tell her you're disappointed in her, tell her _why_ , and apologize for what _you've_ done wrong. And don't expect her to accept everything immediately. She may get even more hostile towards you for awhile, but be gentle with her. From what you've told me, I genuinely think you're still important to her, and if that's so, she'll come around."

"For a mother that hasn't had the chance to act as a mother in years, you're really good at this parenting thing," I quietly chuckle. She laughs along with me.

"Well thank you, although sometimes I think I'm more of a counselor than a mother."

"Don't worry about it. Your advice is part of what makes you the best mother I could ask for."

She giggles, but I don't miss it when her eyes shift guiltily to my left side. Sighing, I move from the stool to sit beside her on the bed, and she lifts a hand hesitantly to touch my discolored burn.

My ringtone suddenly startles her and she quickly lowers her hand, giving me a sheepish grin. Without much of a choice, I rise off the bed and dig the singing phone out of my backpack. It's Iida. I answer the phone and put it to my ear. I've barely gotten out my greeting before Iida informs me urgently,

"Midoriya is missing, and so is Kyou."

* * *

I've been considering writing from Todoroki's viewpoint for awhile now, but I wasn't really sure I was gonna do it. It's just that, for Kyou, I can create her persona and make up every detail about her life and personality and experiences, but Todoroki is a canon character. You guys already know him. That means if I'm not brushed up on every minute detail about him, I could get it _wrong_. It's nerve wracking. So what do you think? Did I pull it off? Does Shouto Todoroki feel like Shouto Todoroki? And oh yeah, you're welcome for that cliffhanger. *giggles mischievously* Guess you'll have to see what happens next chapter. See ya then!


	14. Chapter 14

Merry Christmas! ...yesterday. I'm a day late. I finished writing this yesterday, but you know, it was kind of a busy day, and I didn't get around to posting. And today I should probably get to looking at scholarship stuff for college...but it's so complicated! You think all this college stuff would be easier since so many people have to go through the process, but no. You can never find what you want on the websites. There's one college I honestly might just give up applying to all together because it's too much of a pain. There's another college I'm set on going to, anyway, and it's always been my policy to stress only as much as necessary. But anyway, here is my (slightly late) Christmas present to all of you! Hope you enjoy.

* * *

The room falls silent when I burst inside, only my panting filling the dorm space. All accounted for 1-A students are gathered tensely around the couch area, where Mr. Aizawa and the retired All Might sit amidst them. After a moment, All Might stands, and with the stillness broken Iida dashes up to me.

"Todoroki, you were close to the two of them! What do you think—"

"Tell me what happened first," I cut him off.

"Deku promised to help me with dinner tonight," Uraraka pipes, her fingers pressing together nervously in front of her, "so I went looking for for him so we could get started. He wasn't in his room, and no one had seen him around for awhile, and then we realized Kyou wasn't anywhere to be found, either. Do you think something might've happened to them?"

Kaminari throws out his hands, shaking his head with a smug smirk. "I'm telling you, they're probably an item. They probably just snuck away to do the deed."

"T-T-That can't be it!" Uraraka squeals, cheeks exploding with color.

"Kyou does seem to get along with him surprisingly well for her," Ojiro points out.

"You're all idiots!" Bakugo spits. " _Think_ about it. That bitch's always biting people's heads off. That idiot Deku probably insulted her somehow and she kidnapped him to beat him to a bloody pulp."

"No matter the cause of their disappearance," All Might interjects, "our top priority is finding the two of them and making sure they're safe."

"In light of that," Mr. Aizawa joins the rest of us standing, "you've known Kyou Megumi for a long time. Where do you think she would go?"

I shake my head. "I can show you a few places we used to hang out, but I haven't seen her since we were kids. I doubt she still has much of an attachment to them."

"You're assuming Kyou is the instigator, here," Jiro comments, twirling her earjack around her finger. "What are the odds Midoriya brought her somewhere?"

"I doubt it," Iida refuses. "He was crushed being unable to participate in class. He wouldn't do something to to prolong his punishment."

As the discussion drags on, stones slowly settle in the pit of my stomach. They're right. Odds are, Kyou did something with Midoriya, and thinking back on her behavior particularly in the past few days, her reason probably isn't good. Does she intend to hurt him? But Ojiro's right. She's always seemed rather tolerant of Midoriya. Of all of our classmates, he's the one she seemed to have the least aggression towards. So why him? Could it have been to get at someone else? Someone close to Midoriya? But who—

….Of course.

"Are you okay, Todoroki? You look a bit pale."

I force myself to nod at Yaoyorozu. "I'm fine. I just...have a bad feeling. We need to find them as soon as we can." I turn towards the teachers. "I can guarantee if this was Kyou's doing, they're off campus. There's a children's park we used to go to between our houses, and a street of vendors near it. She mentioned something about an arcade the other day, so it might be worthwhile to check a few of those. I'll check her house. Other than that, though, I really don't know where she could be. It's just been too long."

My classmates immediately begin to separate themselves into groups, All Might helping split them up by abilities and directing them where to go. Mr. Aizawa, however, makes his way over to me. Coming to stand before me, he talks in a low voice that is certainly swallowed up by the clatter to anyone farther away than me.

"How likely do you think it is that she's acting with malicious intent?"

I hesitate.

"So long as no one is hurt by the time we've found her, we can sweep this under the rug and get her help. If she's hurt someone, I can guarantee no such thing. If you're keeping something from us, you need to tell me. Keeping secrets now will only hurt her."

"I swear, I've told you every place I can think of." My jaw tightens. "And she won't hurt anyone. More than anything else, the thing she's always hated the most is hurting people."

His eyes search me. "Let's hope that's true."

It is. What I'm hoping, _praying_ , is that it's _still_ true.

He then begins to insist he travels with me, but I argue that, until we're certain Kyou is acting malevolent, we shouldn't alert her father, and a teacher accompanying me to her house would definitely cause him concern. With anyone else, it's likely my argument might have fallen through. It's a parent's right to know the whereabouts of their child. However, with the Magician being a professional hero in the area, it's likely that even if Mr. Aizawa has never worked with him, the two of them have met, and it doesn't take much time with him to understand that Mr. Kyou is an extremely nervous personality, and extremely protective. If he knew that his daughter was missing, and that we suspected that she might be acting out of villainy, who knows what he might try to do. It seems my assumption is correct because Mr. Aizawa reluctantly agrees to let me go alone. Yaoyorozu suggests she accompany me instead, but I decline, urging that the more thinly we spread, the more likely we are to find the two of them. Iida also decides to form his own party of one, with his plan being to rush through the city using his quirk. The idea of using his quirk in public arises backlash from Mr. Aizawa, but All Might agrees, suggesting that Iida merely use his quirk to the extent that he can keep up his regular top speed without exhausting himself. With everyone sorted and the plan set, we break.

A couple of the groups are forced to pause at the school gates so the teachers can explain the situation to the gatekeeper, but the rest of us immediately split. I only stop once at a street corner to orient myself. It's been years since I visited the Kyou household, almost a decade, so it takes me a minute of deep recollection to remember how to get there. Once I've got it sorted out, I take off again.

Unfortunately, having already run from the hospital to the school less than half an hour ago, I can't keep up running much longer. I slow myself to a brisk walk, trying to recollect myself with deep, meditative breaths as I try to relax the drumming inside my ribs. By the time I've arrived at the street lined with wealth, I've grown significantly less hungry for air. However, I can still feel every heavy thump of my heart as I hurry up the inclined sidewalk to the fence with a rose design.

When I come to stand in front of it, I pause, once again attempting to slow my heartrate as I drink in the sight of the Kyou house. My heart does indeed quiet down, but an uncomfortable squeezing feeling unfortunately takes the place of the pounding. It used to be that the pristine white house stood elegantly among a swath of green dotted with rainbows of flowers, but now, the pale mansion rises in solitude out of neatly patterned stretches of grey. How could such a welcoming home have become so devoid of warmth?

I steel myself and ring the doorbell.

A few seconds pass. Then,

"...Mr. Todoroki? Is that you?"

The voice is fuzzy through the speaker, but I still recognize it as Kana's. So she still works here. For some reason, that fact relieves the tension in my heart a bit.

"It's nice to see you again, Kana," I greet, feeling it appropriate despite the fact I can only hear her voice. "I was looking for Ms. Kyou. Does she happen to be home?"

"She isn't, but you must come in! Mr. Kyou would love to see you!"

"I don't want to intr—"

Something clicks in the gates, and Kana insists, "We won't keep you long." Then, in a slightly lower voice, she adds, "Please, Mr. Kyou hasn't been very well lately. The little miss has been hard on his heart. I think it would do him good to talk about her with you, even if only for a bit."

I glance down the street hesitantly. The thing is, though, other than everywhere I've already mentioned to the others, I don't know where she could be. There isn't time to waste, but perhaps there's a chance her father might have an idea as to where she is. I'll have to find a way to get it out of him without confessing that she's gone.

"Alright," I concede. I push open the gates, finding them lighter than I remember. After making sure they're closed behind me, I quickly head up to the front door. It opens before I can knock twice.

Kana is shockingly unchanged after all these years, the only real difference I can spot being that she's chopped off most of her hair. Despite how much I've grown, though, I can still see affection for a child in her gaze. And relief. I'm surprised how well I can still read her stoic expression after all these years.

After staring at me for just a bit longer than would be considered normal, she hastily steps aside and ushers, "Come in. Mr. Kyou is currently in his study. If you're willing to wait a moment, I can bring him to a room more suitable for company."

"If you don't think he'll mind," I say, trying to ignore the wave of nostalgia that rushes over me as I step into the house, "I should probably see him in his study. I don't have much time before I need to be back at school."

She nods in apparent understanding, but something about the way her eyes subtly dart hints that she's overwhelmed by something. "Yes, no, I don't think he'll mind. Come, I'll escort you."

I let her, but as we walk through the halls it becomes evident I still remember the layout like I was here yesterday. Despite the monumental change on the outside, the inside is preserved impeccably.

I have to strain to keep a straight face when she opens the study door to reveal a pale, middle aged man with short orchid hair in disarray loitering by his bookshelf, a glass of some sort of alcohol in hand. He jumps upon our entry, his timid blue eyes flickering between the two of us. Then he clears his throat and sets his glass on one of the shelves.

"Hello, young man. I'm sorry you had to see me like this, I wasn't expecting company." He clears his throat again, this time running a hand through his hair in an attempt to smooth it down. "Is there something I can…" His voice fades as he inspects me. When he finally speaks again, his voice catches in shock. "My...My word...Shouto?

I struggle to keep my own words from stuttering, quelling the strange mixture of emotions swelling inside me at bay with the reminder that this isn't a pleasure visit. "Mr. Kyou, it's been awhile. How have you been?"

"W-Well I've been fine, but look at you!" He shuffles abruptly closer, his eyes wide with horror, his hands raised as if to cup my face, but afraid to touch. "I can't believe...Rei did this to you?"

I flinch. I know, of course, that that incident with Mom is what allowed Dad to finally cut my ties with the Kyous, but somehow it hadn't clicked until now that that means Mr. Kyou has never seen the burn. He must not have watched the sports festival with his daughter. Or maybe he did, and just seeing it in person is hitting him differently.

"It was a long time ago," I assure him. "Mom and I are back on good terms, and I don't blame her for it.

He nods slowly, then turns and walks back to the bookshelf to grab his drink. After gulping down half the glass, he mutters, "That Enji, he could never think of anyone but himself. Even Rei couldn't endure it. But anyway," he looks back up at me, offering a wobbly smile, "I'm glad to see you, Shouto. What brings you back?"

All too glad to switch topics, I answer, "I was looking for your daughter. Kana's already told me she's not here, but I thought I'd come in and say hi before I have to go back to school."

His smile shatters, his tone dismayed as he realizes, "She left campus without permission again."

"She isn't in trouble—"

But even as I say that, he's slouching into his desk chair, crestfallen. "I don't understand. Why does she act like this? I thought being lenient would be good for her! It's been so long since I've given her rules, but even when I set them, she never listened. Her mother was always better at getting her to listen." He rests his forehead against the hand with his drink. "Oh Sachiko, what have I done to our child?"

"Mr. Kyou." I come to kneel by his chair, and his eyes shift to meet mine. "I'm sure you haven't done anything wrong. Take it from me, teenagers are walking emotional wrecks."

"I appreciate the thought, Shouto, but she was like this before she even turned thirteen. I don't even remember when it started." He smiles bitterly. "It's probably because I gave her that horrid quirk. It's caused her so much pain."

"You had no way of knowing she would inherit such an ability."

"I should have realized…" His breath catches, and he hides his eyes behind his hand. "Sachiko could manipulate dreams, I can manipulate perception, I should have known such a thing was a possibility."

"Then would you have rather not have had her?"

"No! Of course not! I'm...so blessed to have her...after Sachiko's passing…"

"Then don't beat yourself up over it. It isn't your fault. Even though she was born with such a quirk, you _helped_ her. Without that surgery _you_ decided to chance, there's no way she could have lived a normal life!"

He sniffs, then lowers his hand slightly to look at me questioningly through his tears. "You...You know about...the surgery?"

I tense, but don't let it show. "I heard it from my dad." I opt to leave out that I overheard him using it as leverage to argue with Mom about how despicable it would be if she let me get close to such a monster. "You know how necessary that was. She might be acting wild, but because you made that decision, she's been able to go to school. She's making _friends_ at UA. I promise, I will do everything in my power to help her. I know you're worried, but it's not that you haven't done enough for her. I promise."

The man sighs, wiping away his tears with his index finger. When he's somewhat collected himself, he forces a sad smile and ruffles my hair with his free hand. I blink, having not expected the contact. "You're a good kid, Shouto. You have no idea how relieved I feel to know Megumi still has a friend that cares as much as you. Recently the people she hangs out with...well, I haven't even met them. She never brings them home."

I tilt my head inquisitively. "I've been curious myself as to what kind of people she's been mingling with."

"Well I'm afraid I can't tell you. The most she ever says about them is that she's going out to 'hang' with them. Frankly, I'm not entirely sure they're even real."

"If they never come here, she probably doesn't go to their houses either, does she?" It would probably be helpful to know who she's with when she runs away from school, but if what he says is true, I can at least be fairly sure she won't be at a phantom person's house.

"If she ever names a place, it's usually an arcade. If you still have time to search for her before heading back, I would check some of those."

Seems he doesn't have any new ideas. Why does she have to be such an enigma? At least now I know it was a good decision to send some of the others arcade hopping. "I think I'll try that. I probably have to be on my way if I want to get that in before I'm expected back. I'll be sure to visit again soon, if you'll have me."

"Of course! Please come any time you like! This house has always been and always will be open to you."

I stand to leave, but before I can go anywhere, Mr. Kyou sets his empty glass on his desk and rises out of his chair. He turns squarely to face me, standing tall, and formally stretches out his hand. "You've grown into a fine young man, Shouto. If it isn't too much trouble, I ask that you continue to look after my troublesome daughter." I give him my hand and he shakes it. Then, he covers it with his other hand and says, "And just know that no matter how she acts, you have always been important to her. That's one thing about her that never changed."

...That's it.

I'm not imagining things. She really is doing this because of me. Since day one, she'd acted strangely towards me. If I really am so important to her, if she really is still hung up on the past, and she kidnapped Midoriya because he's close with me, then she's going to want _me_ to be the one to find her, and if that's the case...

* * *

This chapter ran longer than I'd initially planned, but hey. I think it turned out pretty well. I knew Shouto would check out her house, but then the next thing I know he's inside the study comforting her dad. I'm not really sure how that happened, but I'm glad it did. As for what he's thinking at the end, you'll have to stay tuned for the next chapter to find out! I think this next chapter's gonna be a big one. Any predictions? Hopes? Dreams? Concerns? Feel free to share, and I'll be back to feed your curiosities again next chapter! See ya then!


	15. Chapter 15

Alright, so this chapter is in two parts. I just thought I'd warn you so when you hit the next break line like the one between this and the story, you don't stop reading. And I was right in what I said at the end of last chapter. This one's a doozy. We should probably get right to it. Enjoy.

* * *

Walking as quickly as I can, I pat myself down in search of my phone. Then it dawns on me that I left it in my backpack, which is now slumped on the floor by the dorm entrance. My lips press into a fine line, but I just sigh and continue moving. Likelihood is Dad _isn't_ at home. He usually isn't. And even if I had my phone, Fuyumi's at work so there's no guarantee she would know if he was there, anyway.

On my way, I cut through the park we used to play in as kids. I pause, my eyes falling on the jungle gym. I can still see her standing at the bottom in pigtails, shouting that she'd save me as I sat at the top. She always wanted to play hero, and I always wanted to sit and catch my breath, so I would usually play the damsel in distress. There were times, though, when I still had energy, that I wanted to be the hero. Even when I was little, and still under my dad's oppressive rule, heroism always had an attractive shine to it. I always admired All Might, and how nice he seemed. The pillar of justice was one thing the two of us could banter about all day! I often imagined he was my dad instead of Endeavor.

I can still remember those numbered times where I played the hero. Instead of the jungle gym, she always liked to find tricky places around the playground so I'd have to work to get her down. Sometimes she'd sit on _top_ of the monkey bars. Other times, when we were in a more imaginative mood, she'd sit atop the tube slide and we'd pretend there was a villain climbing up to get her. I'd have to get up to the slide, coax her off the top of it, and carry her down the slide in my arms all in a set amount of time to win. I enjoyed it, but she got _into_ it, always creating crazy reasons for why she was stuck, or arguing with the make believe villain to stall for time. She trembled and fake cried while she waited and clung to me like I actually was her life saver when I took her down the slide. It was her magically real relief and gratitude that first convinced me that, even despite it being what my father wanted, I wanted to become a hero.

I shake my head and force myself to keep moving. This isn't time to reminisce. Now she's dangerous and volatile and I need to find her. She isn't here, and the group that I sent here has moved on to search elsewhere. I need to do so, too.

Memories continue to bombard me as I move through to the other side, but I refuse to let them stop me again, even when I can't help but recall the time I couldn't stop those classmates of hers from forcing her to use her quirk.

I only allow my feet to stop again when I'm facing the front door of my own home. I catch my breath, and glance about to see if I'm being watched. I'm not. Figures. She's more likely to be inside, in a place she knows well and where she'll know the moment anyone enters.

When my breaths are once again even, I brace myself and lift a hand to the door. Slowly, silently, I slide it open.

The lights are off. I give my eyes a moment to adjust, the step inside, closing the door behind me with the same care I opened it. As I cautiously trek down the hall, each step measured to prevent the padding sound of footsteps, I run through my memories and try to recall if she ever learned to use any weapons. As far as I know, though, she only over learned hand-to-hand combat with me. The only thing I can think of that she might know how to use is nunchucks, but back then, she was never very good with them.

Despite the number of rooms and hallways, there's no question in my mind as to where she is if she's here. While the Kyou's would occasionally eat dinner with us, the only place she was ever really allowed without her parents was in the dojo.

I come to the door of the dojo: Heavy traces of smoke linger in the air. My fingers curl around the handle, and, delicately, quietly, I slide it open. I don't enter.

Daylight streaming in through the windows washes over the Japanese floor and gives color to the girl's dark hair. She hovers carelessly in the center of the room, her fingers daintily maneuvering a small knife as if there wasn't a more fascinating thing she could have in her hand. Her hair hangs from a high ponytail, a thick black headband restraining her bangs. The dot on her forehead is displayed unmarred. Her fingers close around the handle of her knife as her albino eyes raise to meet mine, and a small smirk tugs at the corners of her lips. Before I can speak, she flips her knife to point to a corner behind her.

Outside of the beams of light let in through the windows, a familiar figure with restless hair curls against the wall. A mask over his eyes hides his face, a cloth tied in his mouth keeps him mute. The way his arms disappear behind his back suggest they're held there by something. Still, even with the restraints, the fact that he hasn't fought back makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

"What did you do to him?"

She sticks her empty hand in the pocket of her jacket and pulls out a syringe, flaunting it tauntingly before slipping it back. "Just a little poison."

I stiffen. "You didn't—"

"It's not fatal," she interrupts, stepping over towards her hostage. She leans against the wall next to him, smiling at Midoriya in a way I can only think to describe as sadistic pleasure. "Hallucinogenic. Illusions are my specialty, after all."

"Midoriya!"

"Ear plugs." She points to her ear. "I cut off all external stimuli. Frankly, I've never been the scientific type, but I think this experiment is rather interesting. I wonder if what he's seeing right now is like what he'd see if I used my Night Terror."

Keeping my gaze zeroed on her, I take a careful step into the room. "Just give him back and come back with me to school. If you come back, we can get him treated. I'm sure he'll forgive you."

She scoffs. "He would, wouldn't he? Stop, not another step." She points her blade at me and I freeze. Seeing my obedience, her grin widens. "Let's be real, Shouto. UA doesn't want me. They just want to keep me leashed. They're not gonna just let me off now that I've overstepped their bounds."

I hold up my hands in surrender, my intentions to keep her calm. "You don't want to do this."

"Don't I?"

She kneels down and moves her knife to drag lightly along Midoriya's cheek, causing me to instinctively step forward. Her smile morphs to a growl and she presses the blade deeper, drawing a bead of blood at its point. I retract my step.

"You see, Shouto, this world sucks. I didn't ask to be born with the ability to hurt, and yet there I was, driving people mad from the moment I came into the world. Did you know the doctor who delivered me is still in hospice? My parents were so traumatized they couldn't take care of me for the first few years of my life. Meanwhile, while I've been struggling not to be the brunt of everyone's hatred, there are people like Bakugo who are well on their way to becoming a top hero. Stupid, isn't it?"

"That's what I'm trying to say," I reason. "The way you've been acting, you're only _encouraging_ people to hate you."

"Oh I know. I got fed up with people hating me for no reason awhile ago. I think it was early middle school that I finally decided if people were gonna hate me anyway, I'd at least give them a reason. But even then they weren't satisfied." She turns her hand to smear the droplet of blood across his skin with her thumb. "They still thought I was hiding something. Always thought I was scheming. They've all been waiting for me to crack. Even you."

"This isn't you."

"It is and you know it!" she hisses, bolting straight and glaring.

I rotate my hands so the palms face up, harmless. "Listen. What are you even planning to do? You kidnapped Midoriya, made him your hostage, and drew me out. What now? What's your goal?"

She shrugs. "Don't really have one. I'm just giving you all the show you've been dying to get from me."

"No one wants you to do this."

"LIES!" Her foot stomps to the floor with a bang, and I can't help but wince when the floor cracks under the collision. Once again she raises her knife to point at me. "There's not a person in the world who didn't expect this of me!"

"I never—"

"Don't lie to me! You think I'm evil just like everyone else, so I'll give you evil! I'll make _sure_ your _poor friend Midoriya_ can never escape his world of nightmares! I'll try everything until he suffers through them with his eyes open and his blood clean!" Her hand begins to shake in her ferver, her eyes wide with madness as she declares, "Then I'll hunt down every bitch and bastard that ever dared to lay a finger on me and I'll put them through the same hell! I'll become all you guys ever wanted!"

My blood runs cold when she begins to laugh. Forcing my breathing to stay steady, I lock my muscles to keep my hands from quaking as I gradually roll my hands sideways. Slowly, I lower the temperature on the right half of my body.

Her mouth immediately snaps back into a snarl and she sinks into a defensive stance. Her glare on my face, she taunts, "Why don't you use your _daddy's_ precious quirk?"

"I still hate that bastard," I promise her quietly, "and I don't want to hurt you. Please just stop this. Mr. Aizawa said if you come back without hurting anyone, he can hide this. Don't force yourself onto this path."

"Force myself? _Force_ myself? I never _forced_ myself to do anything! It's everyone else!" Her quaking worsens as her lips draw farther back over her teeth. "Don't you dare blame me for it! It was all _you_. You all think you're so _righteous_ , _punishing_ the girl with the villainous quirk! So what if I get beaten half to death? I _deserve_ it, right? So what if I'm treated as less than human? I'm just a fucking villain!"

"Kyou, put down the knife."

She huffs a quick, disbelieving laugh. "There it is. You just proved everything I said. You're just the same as all of them!"

I flex my hand and all of the sudden, everything's in motion. My eyes fly to her feet as I draw back my arm to freeze her in place, but not before I see the terror flash in her expression, and then a lightning fast movement up causes my gaze to flash upwards involuntarily.

* * *

My breath shudders out as I watch Shouto's discolored eyes go wide, his hand freezing in the air before he can follow through with his attack. Then his fingers twitch, then curl in with strained tension, his nails burrowing into his hand as his arm drops limply to his side. His breathing turns shallow as his gaze glazes over, and all of a sudden, his knees buckle beneath him.

My hand snaps away from my forehead, and both rise shakily above my mouth. Oh my god. I just…

I'm rooted where I stand as Shouto trembles uncontrollably. Every muscle has gone rigid, and sweat has already begun to drip down by his eyes. He begins to wheeze as his throat constricts in on itself.

Fuck. Oh fuck! What have I done? I used it on Shouto! I hurt him! He's in pain because of me! Oh god, they weren't wrong, I really am a villain! I _should_ be punished! How could I have done this to him if I had any goodness in me? All those names, all those beatings, the hatred, ostracization, cruelty, I deserved every last bit of it! Somebody hit me! I deserve it! Hit me and kick me and make me bleed! _I hurt Shouto!_

But there's no one around. No one but the boy _I_ drugged up and kidnapped, and the boy _I_ just threw into his own nightmares.

My gaze lowers to my hands. The bloody engravings stare back at me. Knife. I had a knife. Where did it go? Did I drop it?

A droplet of water drips onto one of the designs. Am I…crying? I drag my palms across my face in an attempt to dry my cheeks, but the moisture just keeps coming. My breath begins to hitch as I rub, and in my desperation I become vaguely aware of my own distorted voice in my ears blubbering out unintelligible words. Why won't the tears stop? I don't deserve the right to be sad! I'm the monster!

Through my now watery vision, a bit of light inside the room catches my eye. I pause rubbing my face, and the water reforms into continuous streams. As faint as it is, there's light around Shouto's left hand. I drop to my knees and scramble to him, reaching out to grab his wrists. In my right hand, even his wrist is hot, and in my left, I can feel the chill wafting from his palm. His powers are leaking. He's so gone he can't even regulate himself.

I look back up to his face. His eyes have lowered to the ground, unblinking, horror twisting his handsome face. A broken sob escapes me at the sight. Decided, I raise his hands and lay each one on one of my cheeks.

I try to convince myself I'm crying because of the searing pain in my face.

* * *

Well. I don't really know what to say after that, so I'll just ask what you guys thought and see ya'll again next chapter.


	16. Chapter 16

Ahhhhhhhh I love long comments! All comments make me happy, but **Jellyfish Bells** (your name is absolutely darling, btw), your comment completely made my day! I'm delighted you love this story so much and I can't wait to write more for you! Also, it's, like, the most flattering thing in the world when someone likes one of my stories enough to go and read another! And you can tell I'm excited because I threw a "like" into my writing just now, which would normally be a huge no-no for me, but I'm just in too good of a mood to care at the moment! That comment helped convince me to power through and finish this chapter to upload today. So without farther ado, let's get to it!

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Why aren't they locking me up? I drugged and kidnapped a boy, threatened another with a knife, and they're not even going to send me to a detention center? Maybe they're just waiting until I get out of the hospital. That's pointless, though. If they're so intent on ridding this world of evil, why should they bother giving someone like me treatment?

From the moment I woke up, I've been waiting for a jailor to come take me away, or at least for that counselor to come and crow that I've finally done it, but so far all I've had are doctors and Dad. The doctors, for the most part, were here to tell me the extent of damage to my face. As if I couldn't already tell from my mummified reflection in the window. If it weren't for my hair tied up away from my bandages, I honestly don't know if I'd be able to tell myself apart from something in a sarcophagus. The only exception for that on the doctors' side was one who was clearly a psychologist. He came in about an hour ago to ask me a bunch of meaningless questions. Fifteen minutes later, he gave up on trying to get a response out of me.

Then came Dad. I wish he'd stop blaming himself for all the horrible things I do. It's a pain to deal with his apologies all the time, and he had plenty to spare today. He's such a strange person. Weak, pathetic, but his heart it good. I wish he'd stop caring so much for someone as hopeless as me. It just inconveniences us both. But I know he cares because he feels guilty, guilty for leaving me in the hands of doctors and scientists for the first few years of my life. Guilty for fearing me so much that, after I was first born, he never saw me again until I underwent the surgery when I was three. I can't blame him. I'm horrific.

They've wrapped my hands, too, to hide the markings. Or maybe they're injured. They've given me so many pain meds I doubt I'd be able to tell if my hands were dangling off my wrists by the nerves. I stare at the bandaged appendages in my lap. I don't regret what I did, but before I used Shouto's quirk, I should've found that knife I had and cut out my palms. Maybe if I destroyed the cursed designs, I'd become quirkless. Even that would be better than the monster I am now.

A knock at the door has me looking back out the window. I wonder if I could get my hands on something sharp here. Maybe I should wait until they release me, so there's no chance of them walking in on me as I cut up my hands.

Whoever enters the room doesn't talk. I can hear their footsteps as they come closer, though. Hopefully it's just a nurse who's come to check my IV so I'll be left alone again quickly.

Then there's a weight near my legs, and my gaze falls down to find an in-bed table propped over my knees. Wonderful. I'm in no mood to eat.

But it isn't food that finds itself on the table; it's a chess board. It takes me a moment to process this, and while my gears are turning, a hand begins to set up the pawns. The black end up in front of me, and the white on the other end. Unable to settle my confusion, I finally raise my gaze.

It doesn't take me any time to comprehend Shouto, his attention on setting up the board, sitting on the bed beside me. It does, however, take me a moment to realize I've stopped breathing. I force myself to start again, as quietly as I can. He doesn't look up until every piece is in its place. I vacuum my lips shut tighter. Why he's here, I can't fathom. If I were him, I'd want to be as far away from me as I could get. But I guess if he is here, that means he was able to break from his nightmare. That's...I should have expected it, I guess. Weak willed people can be trapped there for days, but Shouto has never been weak. No, he's always been way stronger than me. Is that why he's here? To confront me? To push this danger out of his life once and for all? He didn't need to, though. I would have left. His father was right. I am far too despicable to be near his son. So why did he have to come? Seeing him now…

I can't say anything. It's not only that I don't have anything to say, but my mouth is dry, my throat is tight, and my injuries have my facial muscles locked into place. I couldn't say anything even if I wanted to.

"Are you going to move?"

I blink slowly, absorbing the expectant expression on his face. Then I look back to the board. He's already moved. Shifted forward a pawn to…

F4?

My frozen expression chips as my eyebrows furrow. What is he…?

He continues to watch me, waiting. Not knowing what else to do, I gradually raise a hand, tentative as I shakily push forward a pawn on my far right to A6. He immediately mirrors me with the pawn on his left.

I retract my hand, which has begun to quake a little too obviously. My breathing, too, begins to turn labored as I scan the board. He...He wants me to win? Or does he have some other scheme up his sleeve? Give me hope then crush it? He isn't cruel! My fists clench to reign in the shaking, and I hesitantly move the pawn in front of my queen to E6. He retaliates by moving his already moved pawn forward by one.

He does want me to win. He's giving me the easiest victory I could ask for. Why? As a goodbye gift?

My gaze shifts off the board and I clench my hands to my stomach. Why couldn't he just leave me alone? He's so kind, so thoughtful even to someone who's evil, but our parting would have hurt so much less if he'd just left it. I wish he'd just stay away.

"Look at me."

I don't move. He waits, and I wait, too. I wait for him to leave. I haven't said a word to anyone because there just isn't any point, but it's especially meaningless with him. No matter how considerate he is, it's all just empty.

"Megumi."

My hands tighten reflexively, my teeth clenching. _Megumi_. All this time I've wanted him to say my name. Why does he have to do it now? What kind of torture is this?

"Megumi, look at me," he demands leaning in closer. I shrink back against my bed. Am I in a nightmare? Did I accidentally use Night Terror on myself? Is this what I risk throwing people into by merely existing?

Shouto sighs, and I can feel the shift in the bed as he leans back. "Midoriya told me to tell you he forgives you. He's going to be fine. The doctors were able to administer something that broke down the remaining poison in his bloodstream, and there should be no lasting side effects."

Why is he telling me this? I told him before I _wanted_ the effect to last. Is he telling me so that I know I failed?

"Megumi, please look at me. It's because you act like this that stuff like this happens."

What is he getting at? I don't understand!

"Megumi, I'm sorry."

What is...wait, he... I struggle to hold my expression in place, but even with the pain meds, I can feel my skin stretch and chafe against the bandages as my confusion bleeds into my face. After a few moments of trying to shove down my perplexion, I can't help but look up. He hasn't stopped staring at me with those earnest eyes.

A hint of a sad smile tugs at his lips when my eyes meet his, and he continues, "I'm sorry I've been so cold to you lately. The truth is, I've wanted to see you again, ever since my father tore us apart." He turns to stare at the door of the room, his hands fisted anxiously. "Even after we separated, he would always insult you, and use you as an example of a bad influence, and I hated it. I always thought 'What did he know'. One of the few things I felt superior to him on was that I knew you were a good person, while he ignorantly denied it. So when you showed up at UA and you'd taken on this delinquent persona...you were hostile, and cruel, and you smelled like tobacco...it hit me hard. I couldn't accept that my father was right, and I blamed you for letting him be. I lost faith for a moment. I shouldn't have blamed you. I have no idea what you went through while we were apart, and I hate to think about it. I'm sure it was awful, and I wasn't there for you. So I'm sorry. I know I hurt you."

My heart pulsates in my throat and my eyes burn. I don't...what's going on? What is he saying?

"I know you have a good heart," he goes on, turning back to face me. "This face you put on, I know it isn't you, and I think other people know it isn't, either. Midoriya genuinely likes you, and everyone was worried about you when we found you. Well, most of them," he smiles wryly. "You can probably guess who the exceptions were. But everyone was concerned you might be expelled. Luckily, Mr. Aizawa is being abnormally understanding and has told us to hide what actually happened. You're his student, after all, and despite how harsh he is I think he wants to keep being your teacher."

But I've caused so much trouble! Why would anyone—

"So what I'm trying to say is please stop shutting people out. There are always going to be people who hate others for unjustified reasons, but there are people you're important to. Don't feel like you have to be a villain, Megumi. You aren't."

Falling silent, he watches me, looking almost _nervous_ as he awaits a response. Is...is he done? But...I still don't get it! It doesn't make sense! I've always been a nuisance since the moment I was born. If people were ever nice to me, it was out of fear, or guilt, or ignorance...what does he mean, I'm not a villain?

My cheeks crease and crack as my lips part, my voice coming out small, scratchy even in my own ears. "...Why...are you telling me this? Why are you...being so nice...all of the sudden?"

I can't help but gawk as his face turns pink. Realizing the heat in his face too late, he turns away in an unsuccessful attempt to hide it. "I-I haven't been clear lately, and I've acted out of line. I know what I'm saying might sound...sappy...but Mom told me that telling you everything that's been on my mind would help me make things up to you. I really don't like how at odds we've been, and I really don't want to lose you as a friend."

I hiccup, and the noise seems to startle him into looking back at me. His eyes widen as he turns to face me fully, and if I weren't bawling my eyes out, I think I'd laugh at the panic in his normally collected expression. After a few uneasy seconds of watching me be unable to stop crying, he scoots in closer and draws me to his chest, petting my hair uncertainly. My fingers dig into his shirt as I can't help but cry harder. I must be in a dream, I have to be. There's no way that after everything that's happened, how distant he's been to me, he'd say exactly what I've always wanted to hear, and then hold me in his arms. Things like this just don't happen! But even if it's a dream, I've wanted him for so long. His compassion, his care, his love, I never needed anyone else's, just his. Even if it's a dream, I'll take it. I'll hate myself when I wake up. It's so cruel to show me what I've always dreamt of when I could never actually have it, but even if just for this fleeting moment, it feels like he sees me.

It feels like I have _worth._

* * *

 **End of Part 1**

Part one, you ask? Well, I am most certainly not done with this story. Megumi still has a ton of room to grow as a character, and the relationship between her and Shouto hasn't quite gotten its chance to blossom. The thing is, I don't read the manga, and I'm sure some of you don't, either. So, because I don't want to branch off when there's more canon story to come, I've made the decision to put this on pause and pick up again when the next season comes out. Trust me, I don't want to wait either, but after much deliberation this was the best solution I came up with. As for now, shoutouts to Reversus12 and Rynxenvy who have been here since chapter 1! And thank you everyone else who commented, followed, or favorited up until this point. Every time I get a notification I get a rush of happiness, and I make sure to read every comment left on all my stories. I hope all of you will continue to follow Dark Illusions when I begin part two, and I wish you all a happy new year! Best of luck for 2019! Till season four, this is SnowyNeko, signing off! Toodles!


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